The Wandering Wolf
by Oberon Sexton
Summary: AU: What if Ned had a third brother? what would be his place in the world? Just how would he affect the War of the Five Kings?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, Game of Thrones belong to George RR Martin and HBO, I'm just borrowing the characters for my own fiendish story.**

**A/N: what-if Ned had a third brother, the youngest Stark sibling. How would things be different? What would be his place in the world?**

"Lemme' see Ben!"

"No you're too little, you'll fall down and then Ned will be angry at _me."_

"No I won't! I'm a much better climber than you _stupid!"_

Benjen could only laugh at his little brother starring up at him with those furious grey eyes of his, so like their father, _so like Brandon _he thought sadly. He looked back down from the ramparts and saw that his brother was now near tears. "Fine." He huffed "but for the love of the Gods, you be careful."

And with that the young boy was already clearing one rock after another until he finally reached the top, latching on next Ben, squinting his eyes out at the approaching figures riding in from the distance. Seeing his brother's difficulty Ben carefully reached out and pointed at the figure riding in the front. "Look where my hand is pointing Will, that rider out front. That's Ned; see he has Ice strapped along his back."

" YOU TWO GET DOWN FROM THERE!"

Benjen quickly looked down at Maester Walys down below, a stern look of disapproval crossing his worn face.

Will of course groaned in protest. "Please ! I wanna watch as Ned rides in through the gates!"

The old man huffed and started going on about their responsibilities as Lords of Winterfell, but Benjen tried to filter the speech out. _Gods, if I can't even listen to him how's Will supposed to?_

"But I wanted to-"

"He's right Will." He said with a sigh "come we'll stand ready in the courtyard for them. You can be the first person they see."

Will scrunched up his face in annoyance but finally agreed and began to swiftly climb down into the yard and ran towards the Maester's disapproving figure. Ben however got down much slower, careful in his descent. _Will's right, he is much better at this than me. _

Landing with a thud and quickly dusting his fur cloak off, he went to stand with his brother. "You know what little brother? I think you're as sure footed as a mountain goat." he said as he ruffed Will's dark black hair, as he tried squirming away, laughing.

Suddenly he could hear the sound of hoof beats and before he knew it the northmen were riding through the yard, met by the cheering of those whose loved ones had gone off to defeat the mad king ;their fathers,brothers,sons, some would never see their family members again. _I__ncluding us_ thought Ben bitterly. Yet his brother had returned, along with his Wife and son, two new members of the family to help fill the holes they Starks now felt in their lives.

Ned himself seemed to have aged considerably since Ben had last seen him, he seemed….colder than he once was. Ned was always a serious child even when he was a boy, but now he seemed more a soldier than a brother.

As soon as he dismounted Will went to run to him before Maester Walys pressed down on his shoulder. "Wait my boy, Eddard is lord of Winterfell now. We must show him proper respect in front of his people."

Will look up to Ben who nodded in agreement and went to a knee, begrudgingly the youngest Stark did the same as Eddard approached, wife and baby son in tow.

"My lord." Said Benjen with as much solemnity he could muster. After a beat of uncertainty Will quietly muttered the same.

Ned just stood there looking down at his two brothers, silent for a cold eyes unreadable.

After what seemed like an eternity he gestured for them to rise and without missing a beat pulled the two into a fierce embrace. He remembered when his father used to hold him like that, when he had hurt himself or when he had been afraid. He remembered how Brandon used to pick him up off the ground when he fell from his horse; he remembered play fighting with Lyanna in the godswood, the sound of her hearty laughter as she'd best him over and over…._I'll never see them again. _Suddenly he could no longer hold back and before he knew it he was sobbing into Ned's chest, Willam, upon seeing his elder brother's reaction soon followed while Ned held them closer, the three of them sharing their grief.

After a while the boys managed to calm down and Ned composed himself as the lord of Winterfell once more and introduced them to his and Catelyn's son Robb, a tiny thing wrapped in so many furs that he looked like a little ball of snow.

"Lemme see!" cried Will, desperately trying to reach for the babe in Cat's arms. Ned merely laughed and patted the boy on the back.

"You're an uncle now Willam, we've another member of the pack to look after!" Ned replied cheerfully.

Carefully Cat moved the babe slightly enough so that the boys could get a better look without waking the child. Will seemed awestruck at the tiny figure before him, he reached out to touch the sleeping child, but then thought better of it and retracted his gloved hand, much to the joy of the others.

Getting a closer look at his nephew Ben noticed the babe had a little of the Tully red hair coming through.

"He takes after his mother I see, thank the gods for that!" he jibed while playfully hitting Ned's shoulder "We wouldn't want another horse-faced Stark running around."

Suddenly his brother seemed to tense up and an icy look past between him and his wife and Cat put Robb back in place and went with her ladies off into the castle. Ben found himself extremely confused at what had just occurred, he looked to Ned who had a look of deep shame crossed over his usually stern face, Maester Walys seemed to take that as signal to leave, whilst Eddard looked down at his siblings.

" I must show you both something."

Dumbfounded Ben and Will followed their brother as he made his way through the incoming soldiers over towards one of the many supply wagons; inside sat a pretty woman with brown hair, a babe at her breast. Ned awkwardly coughed to get the woman's attention.

"Oh M'lord, apologies, the lad was feeling hungry." She said shyly, moving to make sure that the babe's head obscured her breast from the boys' line of sight.

"That's alright Wylla." Ned replied softly, and then gestured to the boys to be quiet. "This is Jon" he said softly "he is my blood and he will be living with us."

Ben's jaw hung open in shock, he looked at the babe, black of hair, and then back at Ned again. _No, no it can't be, Ned wouldn't dishonour his marriage like that._ His throat had run dry, he stood unbelieving for a time before finallygiving voice to his thoughts."…a bastard?" Ned looked completely torn, but sadly nodded his head in defeat and shame.

"Is…Is he my nephew too ?" asked Will in a small voice.

Ned looked down at the babe for a while, and smiled sadly back at Will.

"Yes, he is your nephew."


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: OK so originally I thought to have the Greyjoy rebellion only one chapter, but in researching it I realised that I'd need to split it up to get the full picture.**

**As always your reviews inspire me so keep 'em up!**

** WILLAM**

** 6 YEARS LATER.**

The beach stank of shit and blood and vomit and every other form of excrement a man could make. Will almost gagged as he leaped out of his long boat and ran at the nearest Ironborn, sword in hand and howling with some mad laughter as he began to cut down one man after another , blood smearing all over the silver Direwolf at his chest .

"COME ON YOU SQUIDY FUCKERS!" he screamed, his young voice struggling to carry over the devastation around him. "C'MON MEN! LETS SHOW THESE FUCKS JUST HOW MUCH THE NORTH REMEMBERS!"

He was greeted by howls of agreement as his fellow northmen rushed the incoming horde of Greyjoys coming to repel them. Will eyed off a particularly ugly Ironborn coming at him with an axe raised over head and quickly brought his long sword up to block the heavy blow, and felt his arms tremble at the brunt of its force. The large man began to press down with all of his strength to bring the blade into Will's skull, noticing this, the young northman quickly side stepped and saw the mighty warrior fall forward at the loss of his opponents weight. Without missing a beat Will turned and swung his sword as hard as he could at the man, smirking with satisfaction as he heard a sickening crunch as his blade meet the large man's unarmoured neck. _Stupid bastard should have been wearing a helmet _he thought grimly. Suddenly he was cut off from his thoughts by the shouting of a familiar voice.

"Get down!"

Without thinking Will ducked his head and saw a flash of steel above him, only to realise that his saviour had been none other than Jorah Mormont the heir to Bear Island, locked in battle against a Greyjoy. The two men were struggling mightily but Mormont was the bigger man and had Valyrian steel sword on his side as well, eventually bringing the Ironborn to his knees and swiftly relieved the man of his head.

Getting to his feet as quickly as his armoured form would allow Will was quick to try and begin hacking his way through the swarms of Ironborn until he stood next to the older man.

"You fight well Bear" he huffed, voice uneven from exertion "But we have to press forward if we want any real ground for King Robert's men."

The grizzled warrior nodded, "Aye if we can push them back to the sandy dunes up yonder we should be able to make a nice foothold." he said gesturing to the large mounds ahead of them.

"Sounds like a plan."

With renewed vigour Will began hacking his way through more and more of the soldiers ahead of him, pushing himself further and further, until he lost himself in a kind of rhythm; slicing, stomping and hacking his way closer and closer to the dunes up ahead. With inhuman speed avoiding blow after blow, twisting and lunging around every Greyjoy blade that came his way, revelling as the spray of crimson met his face. _It's like a dance _he thought to himself with a perverse grin. It was as if the world had slowed and the only sound being made was his own haggard breathing, yet oddly enough he didn't feel tired. In fact it was quite the contrary; he felt as if he could climb the wall itself.

Will didn't need to look to know that Mormont and his men were right behind him, doing their part to push the squids back. The Greyjoy's seemed caught off guard by the sheer savagery in which the northmen were dolling out. _All these years of having their shores pillaged and seeing their wives stolen have turned them all into Direwolves _mused Will as he pushed his sword through the belly of a Greyjoy.

The dance of death seemed to go on for hours before the Northmen were able to drive the Ironborn to the dunes, their shields and swords forming a near impenetrable force whilst the Ironborn were edged closer and closer against the large mounds of sand, literally putting them in between a rock and a hard place. The fighting was fierce and neither side was willing to show any quarter against the other. Emotions were running rampart and every man on that beach knew that this battle wasn't just one of conquest but something infinitely more personal, something that had been built on centuries of hostility and torture, of pure unrelenting hate. Soon, the numbers began to whittle down and exhaustion began to take hold, until finally the warriors of the Iron islands began to fall before the northern might and a great howl of victory filled the air.

Now that he had a moment to catch his breath ,Will suddenly felt the adrenaline wear off and suddenly felt the enormity of his exhaustion, his armour suddenly felt crushing on his shoulders and he could barely hold his sword let alone swing it. His long dark hair was matted to his head, caked in blood.

Jorah looked the young Stark up and down whilst catching his breath. "Lad, you look half dead…and the other half doesn't look much better." An underlining hint of concern in his voice.

"Well I'm at least doing better than those lot." he said with a laugh that was more a haggard cough than any really sound of joy. His voice all but given out from the effort and shouting, yet Will could not help but give a weary grin at his comrade."The nearest keep is Botley castle, that great wooden thing in the distance." He gestured over to the large structure that stood between the army and Pyke itself further out.

"Aye, and no doubt the squids are already preparing a counter attack, one that I doubt we'd be able to hold off. Gods! I told you we should have waiting for the rest of the fleet!" growled Mormont.

Will merely let out a chuckle as he went to sit and rest on a discarded Greyjoy shield lying in the sand, sitting back and stretching his aching limbs as best he could underneath his armour. "You wanted recognition for your skills Jorah, what better way than giving King Robert a foothold to launch his assault?"

"Recognition will be worth bugger all if our heads are adorning the walls of Pyke!" retorted Jorah.

"Oh you're so dramatic Lord Bear! Our situation isn't as dire as you make it out to be; at worst we hold them off until either Ned or King Robert get here in which case we'll still get some glory for having already engaged the enemy. At best…" he trailed off with cheeky grin on his face.

"What? At best what!" huffed Mormont almost petulantly. "I know that damned smile anywhere, what have you got up your sleeve wolf pup?"

"Botley castle may be a great and mighty fort, yet it has one major weakness." Replied Will with a knowing look. "It's made of wood."

Finally realisation dawned on Jorah. "You mean to raze the keep."

"And the two thousand Ironborn housed within." added Will cheerfully.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**A/N: ok so here's part 2 of the Greyjoy Rebellion. Trying to work out the Geography of Pyke was a nightmare but I think I got most of it right.**

**Once again thank you all so much to all my readers, your reviews keep me going!**

"This will be the death of me."

"Oh lighten up Jorah, by tomorrow morning we'll be heroes. Hell, the King might even make you lord of the Iron islands." Replied Will without moving his head from the looking glass he had propped in front of him. They had sent a raiding party into the town of Lordsport in order to steal a supply wagon, and Will could just make out the returning figures in the dying light of the day. His friend Domeric Bolton had seen to it himself and had ensured Will that he'd keep the men in line in case they tried anything on the small folk living there. As much as he hated the Iron men he could not abide by the slaughter of women and children.

He was pleased to see that none of the men seemed harmed and the wagon seemed relatively unscathed. He moved his looking glass to see if there was anyone following them, and yet again luck seemed to be on their side. _This may just work after all…._

_"See _Jorah? I told you things would work out." laughed Will.

"We're not out of the woods yet Stark. We've still to actually get the wagon into Botley keep." Chided Mormont, his eyes remaining fixed on the incoming wagon.

Will quickly folded up his looking glass and rushed over to greet the men as they entered the beach camp. They were all wearing Greyjoy colours found from the dead soldiers that had littered the battleground hours earlier, and after a quick scrub they seemed at least halfway presentable disguises as the men entered the town. Lordsport itself was mostly a small town under the domain of House Botley, whose keep sat above a stony hill overlooking the entire town and its fishing bay. If Will and his men were to get to the keep unnoticed they would need to skirt around behind the town along the beaten tracks under the cover of darkness.

"No one gave you any trouble?" Will asked as Domeric dismounted his horse, walking over to clasp his friend on the shoulder.

"Only the owner of the wagon, but I made sure he was taken care of" replied Bolton "It was quick Will, he felt little pain." his quiet voice filled with regret.

Will often wondered how Lord Roose could father such a caring man; even as children Dom had often been quiet and peaceful, so unlike the other members of his house. When he was younger Will had accompanied Ned a few times during his travels to the Dreadfort and found himself very unnerved by Lord Roose, with his deathly pasty skin, eerie pale eyes and soft whispery voice. Ned had even told him to be careful around the lord and made sure that he never wandered the Dreadfort alone. Legend had it that the Boltons would often flay their enemies alive and wear the skins as cloaks, and if Old Nan was to be believed, even men of House Stark were said to have suffered this fate. Yet when he first met Domeric he seemed quite different from his lord father, though the boy had been quiet and very shy at meeting the other Northern lords he seemed genuinely good natured and after a few days he finally opened up to Will after learning that they both shared a passion for riding and reading the histories of Westeros and the two had become close friends ever since.

"We must hurry, no doubt the Greyjoy men at Botley castle will be readying an attack as we speak." said Jorah with a sense of urgency in his deep voice as he and the captains moved to a tent to strategize.

Will nodded in agreement. "Aye, we must needs to strike when they're all in one place to maximise the damage. We'll leave a contingent of men here at camp in order to fool the Greyjoy scouts that we've set in for camp, and with their gaze fixed here we'll have a quarter of our forces sneak over to Botley."

"And the wagon?" questioned Jorah "how are we to get it close enough to do its damage? Those Iron men have some of the sharpest archers in the Seven Kingdoms."

"We'll need to form a distraction to turn the guard's attention away for a moment…" Will suggested, though to be honest with himself he had no idea how.

Suddenly Domeric spoke up. "I'll lead a few riders out to the east to draw them away, they may have keen archers but they can't ride for shit. I and my men will be able to lead them on a merry chase while you come in from the west with the wagon."

"Do we have much flammable oil left my lord?" asked Will's young squire Edrick Snow, the bastard son of the late Ethan Glover, who was himself Brandon's squire.

"Close to five kegs full, not much but placed in right position it should be enough to damage the foundations and bring the bitch down on every squid inside." replied Jorah with a hint of smile creeping across his bearded face. The other lords all seemed to agree with the plan and set out make the arrangements.

Will had young Edrick help him back into his silver armour and then went off to fetch his horse, leaving the young Stark alone with his thoughts. He knew that there was a great chance that he and his men would not live to see the morning; he accepted that, yet could not help but feel a great sense of excitement as well. _This must have been what Ned felt when he and Robert went to war, defeating that monster that took away Father and Bran. _ He clenched his mailed fist at the thought of the Mad King._ If only I was old enough to go with them…_

Will spent many a night dreaming of the ways he would kill old Aerys Targaryen, sometimes he liked to picture himself standing above the madman, hands around his throat choking the life out of those purple eyes of his as he struggled for air. _Just like Brandon..._ Will felt the sudden urge to break something, lash out and kill someone. The wolf's blood his father had called it, the hot tempers that were brought on by the slightest words or thoughts_. The Gods must at least had some small mercy when they made level headed Eddard lord of Winterfell _he mused as he felt his anger abating.

"M-my lord?" came a small voice from behind him.

He turned to see Edrick standing at the flap of his tent expectantly "It's time my lord." He squeaked out, knowing to be wary of Will during his black moods.

Running a hand through his long dark hair Will nodded his head and went over to pat his squire on the shoulder. "Aye lad, let's go kill some squids ey?" he said, trying to put as much cheer into his voice as he could, given the circumstances. He followed as Edrick lead him over to the horses and noticed that the lad was struggling with something, the boy was probably scared out of his mind at what they were heading towards but so far he had proven himself to be very capable despite being only eleven.

"Something on your mind lad?" he asked as he mounted his horse.

The boy was quiet for a spell but finally managed to choke out the words "I'm…afraid my lord. Do you…do you think a man can still be brave, even when he's afraid?"

Will leaned across from his horse and looked his squire straight in the eyes. "Listen carefully Edrick. Fear is not a bad thing, in fact it gives men great power. How else can a man move faster than necessary without fearing for his life? How else can he fight for longer than when he fears for his loved ones at home? It is only when we are afraid that we can be truly courageous. Do you understand?"

The Boy seemed to think on it for a moment and then nodded his head. "I think so."

Will and his men rode just ahead of the wagon making sure that there was no Greyjoy patrolling the area. They had to keep only a few torches alight so that they wouldn't be spotted as easily, and all rode single file, the wagon itself moved an incredibly slow pace especially with all the stony tracks, making it difficult for their horses to manoeuvre about and Mormont joked that they should have brought mules instead. "Wouldn't that piss old Balon off, seeing one of his keeps taken by a bunch of half-cocked Northmen astride of donkeys?" They all had a good laugh and begun to share flasks of wine around, the mood seemed to lighten considerably after that despite the gloom.

When the keep finally came into sight, Will let out a slight gasp; the castle, while still a mighty structure, seemed to be constructed entirely of timber and wattle with even less stone than they had originally thought. _It seems the Gods have been extremely merciful this day._ Will could almost laugh at it all.

As they moved closer they heard the loud cries of the angry horde from within the great wooden fortress, all getting ready to fan out and lay waste to " the unsuspecting Northerners." _Won't they be in for a surprise…_

Suddenly they heard a large cry of "_WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE!" _echoing out through the night and they knew it was time to spring their trap. Will looked over at Dom who gave him a silent nod and rode off towards eastern side of the keep with five other riders and began bellowing all manner of curses towards the guardsmen sitting high in their lookout towers above the gate.

"KILL THE BASTARDS!" cried one of the Greyjoy men, firing off a dozen flaming arrows out towards the riders as the gates opened and several Iron men came galloping out after them, trying in vain to catch the more skilled horsemen.

"Now's our chance!" cried Jorah as he and the others quickly rode down towards the now mostly unoccupied gate, trying to move as silently as they could whilst still keeping up speed before the other guardsmen would be able close the great wooden gate. One of the remaining men caught sight of them just as they approached the gate."INTRUDERS!" cried out the man ._Oh fuck me.._ thought Will desperately as he tried to avoid the flaming arrows that were now raining down upon them. _If even one of those flaming fucking arrows hits the wagon then we're all dead. _

Then it dawned on him.

"Jorah! How good is your throwing arm?" he asked desperately.

"What? What does that have to do with-?"

"I need you to fill up one of those flasks with oil from the wagon, if you can throw it high enough I may be able light it with a flaming arrow and burn those cunts up in the tower."

The big man nodded his head and swiftly rode just behind the slow moving wagon, desperately reaching from across his saddle to dip his flask into one of the open kegs, stretching out his massive forearm as far as he could and just barely avoiding an arrow as he brought the flask out. "For the love of the Gods aim straight!" cried out Jorah gave a loud grunt of exertion and lobbed the flask as hard as he could up towards the guard tower.

Will lit one of his oil dipped arrows and took aim, careful to manage his balance from horseback. Will had practiced with moving targets before back in Winterfell, and while he was nowhere near as skilled as his sister had been he was still good enough to hit most of his targets, though never on horseback or in a situation with pressure like this. He quickly notched his bow and for a moment he almost let slip his arrow too soon. Within his mind Will remembered what Lyanna had told him when he had followed her out to the practice yards so many years ago;_ "Try not think so much Will" _she said in that soft maternal voice she would take on when trying to tell him something important. "_Calm yourself and breathe easy. You'll know when to release."_

Heeding his sister's advice he slowed his breathing and visualised his target, watching it spin slowly through the air, and with that let slip his arrow, praying that Lyanna would guide it to the flask. For a moment he held his breath in anticipation, until he heard the familiar _thwack_ ofhis bow hitting the leather. His faith had paid off as the Greyjoy archer let out a scream of agony as a ball of fire exploded in his face and rained down into his pot of oil, spreading the flames across the entire walk way and sending the other archers reeling.

Unmolested by any more arrows the wagon was rode through the gates while the driver quickly bailed out and ran as fast as his legs would take back out towards his fellow countrymen as it rolled on towards the centre of the great wooden fortress.

"DO IT NOW !" cried Mormont as the other northmen shot at the wagon just as it crashed towards the main hall, a dozen flaming arrows feathering the uncovered and leaking oil kegs.

Suddenly Will felt a great gust of warm air hit his face as the wagon suddenly lit up in a massive explosion setting the night sky alight in a firestorm mushrooming upwards and quickly enveloping the surrounding timber structures and raining flaming wreckage down on all those below. Many Iron men came out to try and combat the blaze but it was all for nothing; the flames had taken Botley's foolishly built keep and trapped all those inside its walls inside a great ring of fire.

The men on the ramparts that had been burnt by Will's earlier attack were scrambling to jump down away from the flames. _Fools, they're just falling to their deaths._ Thought Will bitterly as the escaping soldiers fell to a sicken crunch on the rocks below, whilst the screams of their trapped brethren filled the air.

"I told you, didn't I tell you Jorah?" laughed Will as he jokingly punched the big man's shoulder.

The heir of House Mormont kept his eyes fixed on the burning figure before them, lost in thought for a moment before turning to the young man beside him. "Stark you bloody mad fool. One of these days your boldness will get you killed…..but until that day comes, I'm glad you're on our side." He finally said, a wide smile gracing his hairy face.

The joy left Will's face as he looked around at their fallen comrades; at least eight men had been killed in the attack, and many more were wounded by pieces of shrapnel from the explosion. He rode over towards some of the bodies and felt his heart sink for the men who died, some were boys from Winterfell half his age, sons of guards and smiths and farmers, all eager for glory and recognition, and instead they had found pain and death. _I lead them here _he thought solemnly, _I'm just as guilty of their deaths as those damned Greyjoys..._

"We leave no one behind." He croaked, trying to find strength in his voice.

"MY LORD! MY LORD!" cried Edrick as he came running towards the men, a look of terror clouding his youthful features. "RIDERS!" he gasped "At least twenty men riding fast from the town!"

Jorah had his sword unsheathed and ready for battle in a second "I don't know about you lot but I don't intend to be taken prisoner by these cravens!" he called to the other men, and with a roar of agreement they hurried to arm themselves and form a defensive position. Will quickly pulled Edrick to stand behind him as he held up his sword, his aching body tensing up in preparation. As the hoof beats got closer Will could almost hear the sounds of the other men's hearts beating rapidly in their chests._ Are Bran and Lyanna going to be waiting for me? _ Either way he didn't intend to go down without a fight.

"Hail the conquering heroes!" cried a familiar voice, and the group let out a collective sigh of relief as the riders came into view; it was Domeric, along with twenty other men wearing the silver Direwolf of House Stark, yet one man in particular stood out among the rest.

"Jory?" Will asked incredulously, rushing over to embrace his old friend in a fierce hug. Will had grown up alongside Jory Cassel back in Winterfell and considered the man half a brother, yet looking at him now he could see that he was in no mood for catching up.

"It seems that King Robert's forces have finally landed." chimed in Domeric, who also wore an unusually grim expression and a tense silence overcame the three men.

Finally Jory broke the silence, his eyes locked on Will's his voice hard and cold

"Lord Stark would have words with you Willam."


	4. Swift, Strong, Brave

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: THANKS ALL THOSE WHO REVIEWED,FAVOURITED,FOLLOWED THIS STORY. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! :D**

Lordsport was burning.

As soon as Robert and his armies arrived on Pyke the first thing they set about doing was burning the now defenceless town to the ground. Will had voiced his disapproval quite clearly to any and all who would listen. "The enemy keep has already been destroyed, there's no need to hurt those people!" he had said, but most of the battle commanders had told him that King Robert wanted no potential threats while his army made way to the Greyjoy castle of Pyke. Of course it didn't help his cause that he was being escorted to Eddard like some disobedient child.

When they brought him into the command tent Will saw many of the other Northern lords in deep conversation; GreatJon Umber, Galbart Glover, Roose Bolton and even Ned's old friend Howland Reed. The young Stark felt a burning flush of embarrassment when they all dropped conversation and stared intently at him. Ned cleared his throat and rose from his seat at the head of the table "If you would be so kind my Lords, I need to speak with my brother alone."

The men all got up and quickly filed out, with Lord Howland gently patting Will on the shoulder as he went. Lord Bolton gave a curt nod and Will tried his very best not to shiver. Now that they were gone the two brothers stood silently at opposite ends of the table, Ned's cold face unreadable. _He's always been like a damned statue; you'd think he was already buried in the crypts beneath Winterfell._

"Alright let's hear whatever speech it is that you've prepared big brother." said Will, trying to sound as nonplussed as he could.

"I've had enough of your damned Japes!" barked Ned, his voice so shockingly loud that Will actually flinched. "You disobeyed me. You went against my orders! Not just as your elder brother but as your Lord!"

Will opened his mouth to reply but one look from Ned kept him silent.

"How can I make myself clearer? I told you to remain with the fleet, to wait until we were already to mobilise-"

"Every day you spent dragging your feet was another day for those monsters to rape and murder our people!" snarled Will, his own fury rising to match his brother's.

"Don't try to make your actions out to be some noble pursuit; this was all about feeding your own ego!" replied Ned disdainfully.

"And look at what my _ego_ has won us!" Will was now shouting, his voice full of indignation at how blind his brother was being. "Robert's forces have a foothold from which to launch their assault, Botley Keep is destroyed and the path to Pyke clear! How many lives did my actions save?"

Ned's anger seemed to have completely dissipated, once again buried under the icy demeanour that usually graced his person. His face remained largely impassive yet Will noticed that his brother's silver eyes had gone colder than he had ever seen them.

"Saved lives?" he asked in a much more even tone. "Your actions cost _three hundred_ men their lives, most of whom were green boys who had never held a sword before let alone fought in battle. That's three hundred families that will never see their sons or brothers ever again, all because of your arrogance."

Ned's words cut deeper than any sword could, and Will felt a great wave of guilt wash over him. He could still remember the faces of those men as they neared the beach of Pyke, faces full of absolute terror, puking in fear as the iron men got closer. _I did that to them, me and my stupidity have robbed those men of a life._ Will looked down at his hands, and realised that all that blood that stained the beach should be covering _them_. He thought of when word reached him of Bran and father's death. He remembered how Ben cried and screamed in pain in Ser Rodricks arms; how Maester Walys had gently explained that he would never see his father and brother again. How many brothers and fathers he had led to the slaughter yesterday?

"Will…listen, I know you felt that you needed to prove yourself but you can't keep acting out like this, especially in a time of war when you hold the lives of others in your hands." Said Ned in that authoritative yet caring tone that he saved for his children.

Will went to speak but found the words stuck in his throat, struggling with all his emotions he simply croaked "I understand."

Ned nodded absently and let out a long sigh, and suddenly looked much older than he was; every scar, every wrinkle sitting around his eyes and mouth, they all told a story of man who had seen much in his life. "Will…I've already buried one brother, please don't make me bury another."

It had only been a few days since Robert had landed on the island yet he was already setting in to prepare for a mighty siege on Pyke, with engines of all sort being built;trebuchets, ballistae, battering rams and catapults, Robert had them all commissioned and ready for use by the week's end. The entirety of the Greyjoy host had remained inside the massive fortress ever since their defeat at Lordsport and the arrival of the Baratheon troops, and no doubt were stewing with rage behind their mighty walls. Looking at the army Robert had rallied Will couldn't help but feel somewhat indestructible with all the country's greatest warriors all fighting against a common enemy. _Get as angry as you like Balon, seven kingdoms have come for you…_

That night Will had decided against supping with his brother and the other lords and went out amongst the soldiers, sharing ale and meat with one another over a roaring campfire, comparing tales of woe and wonder and past conquests. One of the men, a bald corpulent man had drunkenly arose and began singing his own slurred version of "The bear and the maiden fair" and soon the whole camp has joined in on the merriment. Will found that his horns of ale were evaporating rather quickly and before he knew it the world had begun to spin and tilt under his feet until he collapsed rather unceremoniously onto the sand and promptly passing out.

Will awoke many hours later, head throbbing and a bitter taste filling his mouth. For a moment the young Stark lay immobile in the sand staring up at the overcast sky as gulls flew overhead squawking and complaining as they were wont to do, each sound like a war drum going off in his head. He eventually sat up slowly and painfully, and began to rub at his temples gently in an effort to alleviate the throbbing in his skull. _Gods did I drink the entire arbor last night? _

He finally rose from his sandy resting place and tried to walk back to his tent in a futile effort to sober up, yet after taking no more than five steps he doubled over with a wave of nausea and wretched up all over himself and on the sand, his whole body racking in pain as he brought up the contents of last night's indulgences. When he was finally finished he began to wipe what mess he could from his face, scowling as he felt pieces of the stuff lodged in his now messy stubble.

"Aren't you in a sorry state?" came Domeric's voice from behind him.

"Ugh I swear by the Old Gods and the New that I will never drink again." Came Will's grumbled reply.

"Ha! I'm fairly certain you've made that exact vow at least forty times by now. You're not fooling any of them by the looks of it."

"Have you come to taunt or are you actually going to help me up?"

With a small grin Domeric extended a gloved hand towards Will and helped his friend up, carefully making sure that the young Stark stayed on his feet this time as he walked him towards the latter's tent. As they entered Dom gently helped him into a seat and began pouring him a small cup of water which Will greedily accepted. He noticed that it had a slight citric taste to it.

"It has some lemon slices in it; it'll help with that vomit taste." said Domeric noticing the look on his friend's face.

Will nodded slowly and took another sip, relishing the taste and coolness against his parched throat.

Dom looked him up and down with those shining pale eyes of his and shook his head with a laugh. "I'll have your squire go fetch you a bath…Gods know you need it." he japed as he turned to exit the tent.

While he waited for Edrick to bring the kettle for his bath, Will sat back in his chair and closed his eyes and drifted into a light sleep. He didn't exactly dream, yet he could vaguely recall familiar voices murmuring around him, a girl's voice asking him something over and over and the haunting melancholic sound of a harp playing in the distance.

He was torn from his doze by the gentle shaking of young Edrick standing before him, wearing that eternal concerned look of his. He gestured to the large kettle of hot water that he had somehow managed to carry all the way into Will's tent.

"Here's the water for your bath my lord." he said unsurely .

"Thank you Edrick, I think I'll be able to manage on my own from here." Will replied before waving the boy off.

Much to the protest of his stiff back, Will rose slowly from his chair and hobbled over towards the steaming kettle and begun to gentle pour its contents into the small bath that had been placed in the corner of his tent. Whilst waiting for the water to cool Will began to go over the notes that had piled on his desk, most of them were simple things, letters from minor lords asking him for a favor here or there as a Stark of Winterfell, hoping that he may be able to sway his brother one way or another. He put such letters aside and focused on the ones bearing the Stark sigil, his nephews detailing how things were back at Winterfell, their training with Ser Rodrick and about their newest sister little Arya. Jon in particular had taken interest in his little sister, telling him how she had the exact same eyes as him. _I'm sure Cat just loves that_ thought Will bitterly; he had never had much love for his good-sister and how horribly she treated young Jon. _Lyanna hated that prude as well…_

Finally putting away his letters Will striped off his sweaty and smelling clothes and slowly lowered himself into the exquisitely warm water of the bath. He rested his head back and began to feel the tension leave his aching muscles. After about an hour of soaking in the now cold tub Will finally emerged and began to adorn himself in some fresh clothes that Edrick had laid out for him. When he was ready he went out towards Domeric's tent, only to stop at the flap hearing two hushed voices speaking.

"I am telling you now that the bastard will only bring harm to you my son."

"But he's my blood, and your son besides. What harm could possibly come from meeting him?" the second voice was undoubtedly Dom's. _What? I never knew Lord Bolton had any other children besides Domeric…_

"Ramsay is not the brother you want Domeric, and I'll hear no more of this nonsense, be ready to attend the meeting in ten minutes."

Will quickly ran around to the other side of the tent as Lord Bolton made his exit. After the coast was clear the young Stark entered his friend's tent and found Domeric sitting down with his head in a book.

"I trust that you overheard that little family squabble." He said without looking up.

"Indeed. You have a brother?"

"A bastard brother apparently, though I'm forbidden from meeting him." replied Domeric with a hint of a scowl crossing his pale face.

"Dom….I'm not one of your father's biggest supporters, but for all his faults I have never known the man to be irrational, perhaps it may be wise to heed him on this matter?"

Now Domeric finally looked up at him, his mouth set in a deep frown, his pale eyes burning with more emotion in his frustration than his father's dead ones ever would. "He is my brother." He said with a determined look. "I know you can't understand this Will, you've had brothers and a sister. I've been alone my entire childhood. Even when I was fostered with the Redforts I couldn't help but feel jealous of them for their family."

With a smile Will rested his hand on Dom's shoulder "I have always considered you a brother Dom…I know that probably doesn't mean much but you will always have my friendship, for whatever it's worth."

"It does my friend, truly it does. I'm sorry for about this complaining.. I'm just feeling bitter at father, you know how it is."

Will had to laugh at that. "Aye, I do. More than once Ned has driven me up the wall…which reminds me, we have a meeting to attend."

When Ned entered the command tent he had an air of energy about him that Will had not seen in many a year, while he still carried that same grim look on his face he seemed to move a little quicker than usual, moved his eyes over the other lords in a searching way as if he was struggling to find the right words to say to the many great lords come to fight for him. _You've never been a confident speaker Ned, just come out with it_ thought Will irritably.

"My Lords, I have word from King Robert….his siege weapons are ready and we are to make our attack on Pyke on the morrow." Ned paused momentarily, letting the words sink in to all in attendance. Some lords cheered, others laughed, but most remained silent.

"I suggest you all take a good night's sleep and get some rest…tomorrow we take on the entire Greyjoy host." And with that they were all given leave.

The next morning they all rode hard toward the great fortress of Pyke and Will was greeted by the greatest sight his young eyes had ever looked upon; the entire armies of Westeros all gathered together encircling the Greyjoy keep. Banners ranging from the Blue falcon of Arryn, the Golden Lion of Lannister, the blue and red trout of House Tully and even a few emblems of Dorne.

Robert had already begun to unleash his catapults on the massive southern side walls of Pyke, while Ned's forces had begun to strike at the northern side of the keep, with all the ground forces of both men slowly converging together to strike. The tension Will felt in his body was unlike any he had felt in his life, and he replayed the words his father had spoken to him about his own experiences at war. "_When fighting at war you must cast it all aside my boy, let your thoughts go. Only three things matter when it is your life on the line, you must be Swift, Strong, and brave."_

_Swift, Strong, Brave. _ He kept repeating it in his head, over and over as if to ward off death itself like the holiest of prayers. Clenching his sword tightly and feeling his heart almost ripping out through his chest with the force of its beats he focused ahead to the main watchtower as Robert's catapults sent stone after massive stone at it, a large crack had already begun to appear and Will knew that it would break any moment now, and not two seconds later the mighty structure finally gave way under the latest belting and collapsed down bring part of the massive wall down with it.

For a moment none of the men did anything, but suddenly the red robed fire priest Thoros of Myr unsheathed a large sword and began to cover it in a vibrant green substance, instantly setting it alight. _By the Gods_ thought Will _that's fucking Wildfire!_ The red priest ran forward and began unleashing a storm of hellfire upon wave after wave of Greyjoy's in his path, easily cutting down at least twenty men in his rampage.

"Come!" shouted Jorah Mormont from beside him as he ran forwards. _Swift, Strong, Brave, _thought Will as he rushed to join the two warriors through the breach. With ferocity he had never known before Will began to cut his own path in through the many Iron Men rushing in from the castle, a mountain of a man caught sight of the young Northerner and barreled towards him, mace in hand. With a great howl Will sprinted to the man and with an animal like lunge, leapt at the big man's chest firmly planting his sword through the monstrous warrior's heart, as he quickly pulled the blade back he was bathed in a fierce crimson spray.

Suddenly the rest of Robert and Ned's forces began funneling in through the breach and up the crowded halls of stone, the screams of rage and the clang of steel on steel was deafening, with all the men together in such close quarters the fighting was so claustrophobic that Will himself had nearly taken the head off some poor Tully man standing beside him, yet he managed to reign in his blow and began to work his attention forwards up through the keep further and further into the heart of the Ironborn force. His bloodlust had managed to keep him going despite the several cuts and slashes he was receiving, in fact what little pain he did feel was used as fuel to increase his aggression at the squids in front of him. He hacked and slashed and punched and kicked and bit his way through everything in front of him, feeling like a true Direwolf.

Further and further up he went, along with a dozen other Westerosi soldiers cutting a path up the stairs of the keep towards the center of the castle, eventually Will came up to a particularly crumbled part of the castle in a room that had been partially demolished and finally saw something that managed to sober up his battle fueled mind; laying with his legs trapped under a piece of rubble was Maron Greyjoy, old Balon's second born.

The wounded young man looked up at Will with a pained, fearful expression. His hair and face were matted in dust and blood and tears were flooding out from his eyes. "Please" he begged, his voice a small husk, "I yield, just help me."

Will looked down at the man, glaring deep into his eyes. Dozens of thoughts swarm about in his head; How_ many raiding parties has he leaded? How many of my people has he killed and raped? If I were in his position would he do the same? _ He knew what needed to be done, and with one clean stroke separated the man's head from his shoulders.

Will took a moment to compose himself in order to catch his breath, leaning against the stony wall he looked down at the corpse he just made, blood pooling out around his feet. As he turned to leave he made sure to step on the corpse spitefully, yet as he did he heard a choked squeal emanating from amongst the rubble. Quickly turning around he went over to the source of the noise; a little girl hiding behind a collapsed pillar. The child quickly ran and cowered in the corner, sobbing in terror. _Gods, did she see me murder him?_

"Child, I will not hurt you." He said in the softest voice he could muster.

Yet it did no good, and the girl merely cried out louder. Will remained in place standing there unsure of himself when suddenly Jorah stormed into the room with five other men ready for battle, they lowered their weapons however, when they saw the headless corpse of Maron Greyjoy and the cowering child at Will's feet.

"King Robert will be glad to hear of this."

The battle inside Pyke had been fierce and the casualties on both sides had been great, yet Robert and Ned's forces had managed to take the castle. Eventually Robert had stormed into the castle and old Balon was dragged out before him in a room full of lords and soldiers, including Will and Ned. Robert looked down at the crusty old man before him, the Baratheon King towering over the traitorous lord.

"We've burnt your keeps, defeated your brothers and killed your sons. Do you now realize how utterly beaten you are Greyjoy?" boomed Roberts deep voice, his fierce blue eyes fixed upon Balon's black ones. "I should have you and your entire traitorous family's heads adorning spikes above Kings landing….but I'm willing to give you another chance. Bend the knee and swear fealty to me and mine and I'll allow you and your family to live, hell I'll even allow you to remain lord paramount of these damned Islands. So what do you say Greyjoy?"

For ages the head of House Greyjoy said nothing, and with a deep sigh Robert gestured for one of the guards to open the door leading into the next room, and out came two crying children being led by a Gold cloak. One of the children was a little boy of no older than nine, and looked as though he had been torn kicking and screaming from his bed. The other was the same little girl that Will had discovered. They were Balon Greyjoy's two remaining children.

"Think of these two Greyjoy, you can save their lives if you end this madness." It was the closest thing to a plead Robert had ever made.

Balon simply stared at his two crying children, his worn face unreadable. _Surely he will not let any harm come to his only surviving heirs? _Yet when the old man made no sign of surrender Will began to get worried, but even if Balon refused ,there was no way Robert would harm innocent children. _Rhaenys and Aegon were innocent_… said a small voice in the back of his head. Will may have been many things but a murderer of children was not one of them, he couldn't allow that to happen. Looking over at Ned he could see his brother felt the same way, his hands clenched and his body shaking in visible anger.

Will moved his hand to the hilt of his sword when suddenly Balon went to a knee and pledged House Greyjoy's fealty now and always to Robert and the iron throne much to relief of everyone in the room. Robert smiled broadly and gestured for Balon to rise.

"Now, to ensure your loyalty I will be sending your son Theon to the North where he'll stay as Lord Eddard's ward. Is that understood?" said Robert in that loud boisterous voice of his.

A pained expression crossed Greyjoy's face, but he managed to nod his head in response, and with that the threat of the Greyjoy's had finally been over. Robert being Robert had called forth a huge celebration feast to hosted back in Lannisport once all maters in the Iron Islands had been cleared. But before the other lords were dismissed the King called out Will's name.

"Will! Come here boy! Gods I haven't seen you since you were small enough to sit on my knee!" laughed Robert in that booming laugh of his. "And don't think I didn't hear about your assault on Botley, not to mention your bravery getting into this cunt of a castle. Such actions shouldn't go unrewarded…take a knee lad." a deep smile spreading across his bearded face.

_Oh Gods…does he mean what I think he means?_ Thought Will in disbelief, before Robert urged him down with a laugh.

"Now I know you're a worshiper of the Old Gods , but Ned tells me you've also spent some time learning of the Seven in that Sept at Winterfell so I think we can avoid the technicalities here." The King then unsheathed his sword and touched it to Will's right shoulder. "Willam of House Stark, In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave" the sword then moved to Will's left shoulder. "In the name of the Father I charge you to be just." Now it was back to his right shoulder "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent" left shoulder again. "In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women." And on and on it went until finally the King said "now rise…Ser Willam Stark!"

Many of the lords began to cheer and all the witnessing soldiers raised their swords and spears in celebration. Soon afterwards Robert awarded many more knighthoods and titles to other brave soldiers that day with loud roar of triumph filling the room.

All the while the little Greyjoy girl kept staring over at Will.


	5. Domeric

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: New Chapter! just a short one for now but hopefully you guys like it!**

**DOMERIC**

Domeric had known Willam Stark for over ten years, and never in those ten years had he ever seen Will in anything like his current state; the young Stark was quiet and withdrawn, a complete opposite to his usual open and nonchalant self, it was as if some horrible shade was weighing him down . Dom had tried talking to him about it but Will had always brushed it off as nothing. _Something happened to him during the storming of Pyke…_

Domeric had gotten separated from Will during the first breach and had spent much of the battle lost within the treacherous halls of the great castle neck to neck with twenty other soldiers crammed together trying to cut a way through the hordes of Iron Men. When the battle was done and he finally managed to see the young Stark again his eyes had lost some of their luster, the silver twinkle of his had gone, he had look a man far older than his years.

Whatever the case he felt it was his duty to look out for his friend so he had decided that instead of returning to the Dreadfort with his father he was going to accompany Will south. After much debate his father had finally relented, deciding that perhaps a bit of time in the south would do him some good after all. _He just wants me kept away from my brother_ thought Domeric bitterly; he still had a desire to meet his younger brother and perhaps even take him back to the Dreadfort.

He had often wondered why he had no brothers and sisters growing up, why there were so few other children to play with in the Dreadfort, but he now realized how much of a dreary and terrifying place it could be, no doubt made worse by his father. Dom was even loath to leave his mother alone with his father, knowing she was just as terrified of him as everyone else was, there was many a time when he was the only one to speak against his father and while he was occasionally punished, more often than not his father would concede to his son with the barest hint of pride in those deathly pale eyes of his.

But Dom shook himself from his thoughts and set out to find Will among the beach camp. While most lords had left Will, Jorah, and a few Baratheon banner men and yet to set sail from the accursed Islands and hopefully Dom could convince the young Stark to get a move on with whatever his plans were, Dom didn't care where they went as long as it wasn't on the horrible patch of earth he was now standing on. After an hours search he finally came upon his friend sitting solemnly before a fire far away from everyone else. Will was staring hard into the flame as if searching for the answer to some hidden mystery.

"I'm guessing that you're as fed up with this shithole as I am?" asked Will tiredly as Dom came and sat across from him.

"I was hoping that we could set off for Lannisport tonight if the winds are in our favor."

Will nodded wearily but refused to look up from that damned fire.

"What's been on your mind old friend? You're a knight now, why so glum?" asked Dom in a pleading tone.

Will sighed deeply and began to put a hand through his shoulder length raven hair, a habit that his friend often did when he was nervous and judging from the dark circles underneath his eyes whatever had been troubling Will had been enough to keep him awake at nights.

"I was talking to that Red priest Thoros and he told me that his God would send visions to people through the flames, that sometimes forgiveness could be found in the fires." He whispered, moving his hand towards the flame as though he meant to catch the fires themselves.

"And what do you need to be forgiven for my friend?" asked Dom in a concerned voice.

For a moment Dom thought his friend hadn't heard him, as he sat unmoving in front of the fire. But he finally ripped his eyes away from the crackling flames in front of him to look Dom directly in the eyes, when he spoke it was slow and deliberate.

"I killed a man in front of his sister, a mere child. He was…begging for me to help him and I cut him down without mercy. No child should ever see a thing like that."

"This was a war Will, you did what you had to. If anyone is to blame for what that child saw then its old Balon for having his children around that violence, for starting that damned rebellion in the first place."

Will seemed to chew on that idea for a while before finally heading back to his men. Domeric could see that he still felt guilty, but at least now he was no longer wallowing in self-pity, and for that he was grateful. _That's never been his style _mused Dom with a laugh.

They had decided to set sail at first light the following morning, half of their men had gone back to their homes while Dom, Will, Jorah, Edrick and a few retainers had set a course for Lannisport and indeed the wind was on their side; they made it in less than a week.

Domeric had never been to the Westerlands before let alone in Lannisport and was in awe of the beauty of the place, While it was not as large as King Landing, it seemed much grander in a sense; with buildings and statues adorned with all manner of gold and colorful stones and high walls along the coast. Likewise flowers seemed to be displayed on nearly all of the buildings their entourage passed as they rode through the grand city towards the tourney grounds that King Robert had designated for his celebratory event.

"What do you think Dom?" asked Will as he rode up next to him, trotting along the road as they left the city.

"I think the Lannisters have too much gold." He replied dryly.

"HA! That they do my friend that they do."

"The Gods must have sense of humor to grant so much gold to those with so little honor." grumbled Jorah with a scowl crossing his hairy face, much to the laughter of the others.

Looking up ahead Dom saw that there was some kind of trouble up the road; a wheel house had broken down on the side of the road and it's two occupants, a pair of ladies, were standing about as some of their guards tried to vaguely reattach one of the broken wheels.

"We should go help them." squeaked Edrick, while looking up at Will.

"Heh, indeed we should lad." Replied Will with a wolfish grin crossing his face. "It's not every day that you meet a couple of beautiful maidens in need of assistance." And with that he galloped off to the downed wheelhouse leaving a trail of dust for the rest of them to choke on.

"Idiot." complained Dom, before he urged his own steed on to meet up with them. As he approached the wagon Dom could see Will chatting away with one of the two ladies, a beautiful dainty looking woman with long curly hair the color of honey. Whatever his friend was saying seemed to be quite amusing to the lady as she was blushing deep red. _Always the charmer , ey Will?_

Suddenly they looked up at him and Will leaned over and whispered something into the young woman's ear, causing her to erupt in laughter. Now they were all looking at Dom, and suddenly felt very self-conscious about the flayed man adorning his chest.

"Ah Domeric good of you to join us." called out Will just as Dom dismounted his horse.

"My Ladies, this is Domeric of House Bolton." With that the two ladies gave a graceful curtsey. "Domeric this is Lady Leonette Fossoway" he said referring to the girl with the honey colored hair, "and this is her Handmaiden Jeyne." referring to the small mousy woman standing beside her. Dom made sure to give a nice respectful bow just as he had been taught to do in the presence of a lady.

"It is an honor to meet you my Lord." said Leonette in a high sing song voice.

"The honor is all mine my Lady." Replied Domeric as he gently kissed her hand.

"It seems that the Ladies have run into a spot of bad luck; they were on their way to the tourney and their wheelhouse had a bit of a…accident. Since we were also on our way to the tourney I told them we would give them a ride with us." Said Will, smiling from ear to ear like a cat who been caught with a mouse.

"I do hope this isn't an inconvenience." chimed in Leonette.

"On nonsense my dear, if anything I'd say it's a rather _pleasant_ convenience_._" gently chided Will, his silver eyes seemed to almost twinkle again at the idea.

_Well _thought Domeric with a smile, a_t least he's not depressed anymore….._


	6. A Taste of Glory

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: And here we are, another chapter! As always thanks to those of you who Favorite, Follow or Review. You Guys Rock! :D**

Peaches.

She smelt of peaches. Will was absolutely intoxicated by her very presence. The way she laughed that giggle of hers, the way her big blues would light up in curiosity as he told her of the North, the way her curly honey colored hair would bounce wildly as they rode towards the tourney grounds. Will had been with many a girl in his time, whores, daughters of blacksmiths and kennel masters, even the occasional younger daughters and sisters of minor lords, much to Ned's disapproval, but Leonette was different from them all; she was a true lady, beautiful, funny and exceedingly clever as he had come to learn during their travel.

"Is it really true that you have summer snows in the North?" asked Leonette's handmaiden Jeyne as they sat down to have something to eat.

"Why yes it is my lady, but they're really little more than a nuisance." Replied Will as cordially as he could manage.

Jeyne seemed quite taken aback at that, "How do you manage during winter then? It must be dreadfully cold for your family at Winterfell." She asked incredulously

"Well we-"

"There is a number of hot springs underneath the castle that provides warmth throughout the entire keep." Answered Leonette cutting Will off, before looking guiltily over at the young Stark. "Or so I've heard."

Will nodded in confirmation. "Aye, that's correct. My ancestor Bran the Builder created Winterfell in such a way so that even during the coldest winters my family would always have some warmth….how did you know that my Lady? If you don't mind me asking that is, but I would have thought that such a thing wasn't common knowledge down south of the Neck?"

Lady Leonette shot him a dazzling smile and Will felt his heart skip a beat. "No ser it's not, but I happen to be fascinated by the histories of Westeros and its many great Houses, like the Starks."

"And what have conclusions have you reached?" he asked with a smirk.

"Well from what I've read, most of them were great ,honorable men, although there is one I haven't quite made my mind up about." She said with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.

Will simply chuckled at that,blushing shyly and not quite meeting her eyes. _Her dazzling sapphire eyes…_ he mused with a quiet smile.

"What about you my lady? Which of the Fossoway's do you belong?"

"My home is Cider Hall." She replied proudly.

"Ah so you're a red apple then?"

"Indeed I am." a smile tugging at her lips.

Will searched his memories for all that he could recall about House Fossoway of Cider Hall, their sigil was a red apple over a golden field, and if he was not mistaken their words were "_A Taste of Glory" _Will could not think of anyone else he had ever met that so utterly lived up to their family words as much as Leonette did.

"Ser Willam." said Domeric sharply from beside him, shaking Will from his thoughts. "We should push on if we want to reach the Tourney grounds by nightfall."

"Oh, uh yes, right. Don't want to be late, do we ladies?"

As they mounted their horses Will gently lifted up Leonette and placed her in the saddle first much to her amusement. After Will got on behind her he gently urged his horse into a slow trot helping Leonette get herself comfortable before letting his horse pick up its pace. As they raced onwards he felt her lean back into his chest, the intoxicating aroma of her honey-gold locks maddening.

They rode for hours before finally coming across the Tourney grounds and the barrage of multicolored tents covering the countryside. _The Lannisters have gone all out to prove just how disgustingly rich they _are thought Will bitterly. Despite it being the waning hours of the day the tourney still seemed alive with many people from all over the seven kingdoms, and as they rode forward into the grounds they were met by the familiar colors of Leonette's house; several men were standing in front of a particularly large tent, a red apple adorning their chests.

"Here you are my lady, safe and sound." said Will as he dismounted and helped her down.

"And you have my eternal gratitude ser." she declared with a cheeky grin, and for a moment they both stood there, lost in each other's eyes, though it was short-lived as a loud bellow emanated from behind them.

"LEONETTE?!" cried a tall balding man with a thick moustache that came shuffling out of the tent, the red apple of Fossoway embroidered on his chest as well.

"Who else would it be uncle." Sighed Leonette as the man approached the two.

"I heard tale that your wheelhouse had broken down on the road from Lannisport." He said with a somewhat grumbling tone.

Leonette rolled her eyes at her uncle, "And I would still be on the road if not for brave Ser Willam here." She said in a brighter voice, locking her arm through Will's, her eyes gleaming with merriment.

Leonette's uncle seemed to only just now realize that Will had been standing there all along and instantly began sizing him up. Not to be outdone, Will met his stare with one of his own. Looking at the older man now Will noticed that he was quite a bit fatter than he had first realized, with a second chin sitting right under his first. What was left of his hair was graying fast, in contrast to his black as pitch moustache. He looked at Will carefully with two beady little eyes full of scrutiny. His disapproving look however, was quickly gone when he saw the silver Direwolf on Will's chest.

"Ser…Willam? Was it?" he asked in a somewhat lighter voice than that he had been using on his niece.

Will gave the smuggest grin he could muster. "Yes my Lord, I am ser Willam of House Stark." He said joyfully, giving a slight mock bow.

The tall man seemed to stumble over his words for a moment before finally straightening up a little and extended his hand which Will shook. "I am Quentin Fossoway and I suppose I owe you a great debt Ser Willam. Leonette can be a handful at times but only the Gods would know what we'd without her."

"No doubt you'd be out begging in flea bottom uncle." Leonette countered sharply.

"No doubt." replied Quentin, giving off a huffed up laugh that sounded entirely forced. "Where is your handmaiden Jeyne?" he asked suddenly, a slight predatory gleam in his beady little eyes.

Leonette seemed to stiffen a bit at her uncle's question and locked her arm slightly tighter around Will's. "She was travelling with one of Ser Willam's companions. They're a day's ride behind us I fear."

_Why is she lying? _Will thought in confusion, Dom had ridden behind them at a slower pace so that Will and Leonette could have some space to talk, yet he was only an hour behind them at the very most. There was something odd about Leonette's tone, yet her face remained a mask of innocence. So Will played along as well.

"Forgive me. My friend, he's quite a horrid rider and I thought that perhaps Lady Leonette's speedy arrival was more of a priority." feigned Will with an even tone.

Quentin waved it away "Oh you did the right thing my boy, right thing. I merely wished to…_discuss_ something with the girl but it can wait."

Will resisted an urge to wretch and merely nodded. It seemed Leonette was about to speak when a Fossoway guardsman rushed up and whispered something to Quentin, startling the man "He's here?" he asked urgently, only to be met with a swift nod from the guardsman. After he had sent the man off he looked over at Will "I'm afraid we must be going, me and my niece have places to go and people to see, good day ser Willam." and with that turned on his heel and quickly shuffled off.

Leonette turned and looked apologetically at him. "So we depart it seems." Her eyes twinkling back at him with something he couldn't quite decipher.

"All good things must end I'm afraid." he said with a charming smile on his face.

"May I ask you yet another favor my gallant knight?"

"Yes my lady, of course." a look of confusion spreading over his face.

"When you meet up with your friend Lord Bolton and Jeyne…would you mind taking her over to Lady Hightower's tent?" she pleaded quietly.

Now Will was really confused "I'm not sure I follow..."

"I will meet up with her there on the morrow, my friend Lady Lynesse Hightower will look after her until then, tonight would…not be the best night for her to be around." She explained carefully.

_There's definitely something she's not telling me_ thought Will as he looked down at her unusually worried expression. _I suppose I shouldn't pry _"I'll take care of it my lady." he finally said much to Leonette's relief.

She looked up at him with her bright sky blue eyes and gave him a smile so dazzling that he suddenly felt as if there had never been a woman so beautiful in the entire known world. _From the lands of always winter to the summer isles she is the most beautiful creature to have walked this earth…_

"I take it you intend to compete in the tourney?" She askedwith a shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Will was somewhat taken aback; truly he had not thought to enter the lists but now that she had mentioned it the idea began to take root in his mind. Will wasn't the best jouster given that he had little time for such activities up North, but he was a considerable rider and unlike many of these Southerners he had actual experience in warfare. Surely he could at least give it a try?

"Indeed my lady, you haven't seen the last of me just yet." He said with a light smirk.

"Well then ser Willam I-"

"Please my lady, call me Will?" he asked cutting her off.

"Only if you return the favour." she said with a smirk matching Will's own.

"Alright Leonette" replied Will watching her eyes soften as he said her name aloud.

"I suppose I must go after my oaf of an uncle." She said looking forlorn at the tent behind them. The warm summer wind gently blowing her honey locks across her face in the most hauntingly beautiful manner.

"Well I won't keep you. Farewell Leonette of the red apple." He declared before giving a short bow and turning to his horse.

"Will!" she called from behind him and he could hear the ruffling of her skirts as she hurried after him. "Wait! I forgot to give you something.."

"Really Leonette there's no need-" he started before being silenced as Leonette's lips meet his. Suddenly all he can think is how divine she tastes; sweet and warm like summer and wild strawberries.

After a moment they part, both blushing a deep crimson and breathing heavily, yet still not breaking eye contact until finally Leonette gives him a brief curtsey and rushes back to her uncle. Will watched her for a moment until finally she vanishes in her tent, the strawberry taste still lingering for the rest of the day right up until he finally catches up with Dom and Jeyne and their companions.

"My Lady I bring word from lady Leonette. She says you are to stay with Lynesse Hightower for tonight."

The handmaiden's face seemed to fall briefly at thought of leaving her lady yet she seemed to brighten up as they made their way toward the Hightower tents. When they reached them Will personally escorted Jeyne to what he assumed was the most occupied and told the guards that he had a message for lady Lynesse.

Within moments a beautiful woman with long golden hair and skin the colour of cream emerged from the tent, hands on her hips and a heavily annoyed look crossing her soft features. "Do I know you?" she asked somewhat indignantly.

"No my lady, but I believe you do know lady Leonette Fossoway?"

The woman's face seemed to soften considerably at the mention of Leonette's name. "She…sent you here?" she asked in a much gentler tone.

"Yes my lady, she asked me to escort her handmaiden Jeyne to you."

On cue Jeyne moved from behind Will and lady Lynesse seemed to recognise her immediately. "Jeyne! Oh come here sweetling." she said as she swept up the younger girl into and hug whilst Will stood there somewhat awkwardly.

Finally breaking her embrace Jeyne gave Will a slight curtsy. "Thank you for all your kindness ser."

"It was nothing my lady." With that he kissed her hand and bid his dues.

As he mounted his steed and he noticed that Jorah was looking rather intently at the Hightower woman. _I suppose the south has been good for us northerners_ he thought with a laugh. Their entourage finally set up camp just as the sun was setting, bathing the entire countryside in a deep orange glow.

Later that night he and the men were sitting around the campfire talking of the glory they would get at tomorrow's tourney, Will however remained silent the whole night until Domeric called him out on.

"There are few things that can silence Willam of House Stark and even less that can leave him looking content as his friends drink all of the wine. So tell me, what in the name of the Gods are you pondering so hard?"

Will gave his friend and enigmatic grin and said "I'm thinking about how lovely a crown of blue roses would look on Leonette Fossoway."


	7. The Bear and the Maiden fair

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

**A/N: New Chapter! big thanks to those who you who favorite, Review and follow the story!**

"So you really mean to do it?"

"Indeed. I dare say I ride better than most of these southern knights." replied Will as he briskly walked over towards the Lannister steward, whom was already seeing men about entering the tourney. Domeric could only walk beside him shaking his head in disbelief as he entered the lists. The Lannister steward only needed to look once to see that he was a Stark and gave the briefest of nods as Will put his name down.

As the two were walking out of the tent they came across an odd sight; Jorah Mormont talking with Lynesse Hightower. To say Will was surprised was an understatement, in all the years he had known Jorah he had never seemed the romantic type, oh yes the man had been married before to a woman of House Glover, but it had been some years since she had died in childbed and not once had Will ever see the tough bear even so much as have a conversation with a woman. And yet, here he was not only in deep conversation but also very successfully flirting with a beautiful maiden.

"Will pinch me, this can't be real." said Dom with a laugh.

"Who knew our bear had a heart after all!" Will snickered.

Suddenly Jorah bent down and kissed the Hightower woman's hand before bowing and walking in Will and Dom's direction, his previously smiling face replaced by a scowl as he saw the two of them standing there, trying in vain to hold back laughter.

"What are you two half-wits staring at?" he practically barked.

Taking a moment to regain their composure the two friends quickly straightened up and looked back at their growling companion. "Oh we're just, uh, a little shocked is all. You and Lady Hightower seemed to be getting along quite well." said Dom struggling to find the appropriate words in fear of upsetting the big man.

Without replying Jorah stormed past them back towards the Lannister steward working the enlistments, much to the confusion of Will and Dom. "Wait a minute…. Jorah you're not planning to enter the tourney are you?" asked Will warily.

Mormont turned and looked at him quizzically. "Yes, I do. I'm not much but I plan on winning the Tourney and crowning Lynesse queen of love and beauty." He declared proudly.

_Oh fuck _thought Will in frustration. Domeric however seemed to find the situation hilarious and found himself nearly doubling over in laughter. Jorah seemed to take offense to the heir of Bolton's laughing. "What's so damned funny Bolton!" he roared.

"heh, it seems you're not the only one around here who favours himself a tourney Knight ey Will ?" he said whilst trying to stifle a giggle.

Jorah looked at Will in realisation. "You enlisted?" he asked fiercely.

"Yes. I too hope to crown the woman I love as the queen of love and beauty." replied Will mildly.

Suddenly worry rushed over Mormont's face and he took a few steps forward. "Will please, I must win. If I manage to crown Lynesse I'm sure I can convince her father to allow me her hand in marriage." His voice more desperate and pleading than Will had ever heard before.

"My friend I'm sorry but I also have someone I mean to be with, besides you might even best me."

"Aye, I might. But there's an equal chance that you'll unhorse me as well, and I know that you mean to win for the Fossoway woman but please I need this. I don't have your comely looks or a well-respected name behind me like you do; I have to fight harder to prove myself. Please Will, do me this boon and bow out?"

Will gave out a great sigh and thought of Leonette's dazzling blue eyes, he was in love with the woman, he was surer of that than anything else in his entire life yet he knew Jorah deserved the chance to be happy too. _Damned Stark honour of mine.._

"I'll…think about it, that's all I can promise my friend." He finally said much to the bear lord's relief, who nodded to him and Dom and continued onwards to the enlistment tent.

Will ran his hands through his long dark hair in frustration as Domeric merely patted him on the back with a laugh and ventured off on his own somewhere. Will decided to go back to his camp and see if he could get any sleep to help with his decision.

As he approached his tent he heard to voices murmuring from within, one of them was distinctively female. "When will he back? It's really quite important." said the voice somewhat exasperatedly. "I'm not sure my lady." came another voice that was undoubtedly Edrick." Ser Willam is often…."

"Late. But I do have rare moments of punctuality….ah my lady how good to see you again." Cut in Will as he entered the tent addressing his two guests.

Jeyne's eyes widened slightly in surprise but she quickly gave a curtsy. "Greetings ser." She said in that high shrill voice of hers. "I bring a message for you."

"Oh? Well in that case I think it's time you went off and gave my armour a polish ey Edrick?"

The squire nodded his head and with that zoomed out of the tent.

"Now what's this message you bring my lady?" he asked charmingly.

Jeyne gave a slight blush and lowered her eyes from his as she spoke. "It's lady Leonette, she would like to enquire if you could….. Show her around the local godswood later, at perhaps the hour of the wolf." she said, struggling to convey the entire message, without actually _saying_ the message. Will could tell she was extremely embarrassed at having to pass messages between the two of them.

"So she wants me to meet her in the godswood….alone?"

Jeyne's face turned a deep scarlet but she managed to give him a small nod.

"Tell your lady I shall be there." he said with a large grin consuming his features.

He got to the godswood early that night. Looking at the old oak that was being used in place of weirwood tree Will knelt in front of it and gave a silent prayer for his family as he always did when at such places. Compared to his brother Will wasn't as devout in his worship of the old gods but he did feel a strong sense of peace in the godswoods, ever since he was a little boy whenever he had gotten into an argument with his siblings or father he would always come to the godswood to be alone with his thoughts.

"_Maester Walys said that it was because of me that Mother died!" he loudly shouted at his father whom shot a cold stare at the simpering Maester standing before them, his cold silver eyes burning through the old man._

_"I merely said that Lady Stark died in childbed, if I caused any offense Willam I-"_

_"NO! I didn't kill her! I didn't!" he cried out, tears rolling down his face as he quickly ran from the room. _

"I've always thought it odd how you northerners worship your trees." Cut in a voice from behind him, shaking him from his thoughts. "I mean, what good can a tree do for you other than provide shade on a hot summers day?" said Leonette with a smirk.

"The old Gods see through the trees and hear our prayers… or so the elders say." He replied, slowly rising from his knees.

"And what do you say?" she asked playfully.

"I think that someone who worships a God who is simultaneously seven different people has no right to mock other people's religion." replied Will with a smirk.

Leonette laughed then, letting her head fall back and her hair spill about her shoulders, and when she met his eyes with her own sapphire orbs Will felt his heart melt. Slowly she got up on her tip toes and softly met her lips to Will's, her strawberry taste once again overwhelming his mind and body and suddenly she kissed him with slightly more urgency which Will matched with his own desperate need.

Finally they parted, both breathing deeply and grinning madly at one another. Will gestured to the stone bench just beside the great oak and they both sat, Leonette resting her head on Will's shoulder staring up into the night sky and for a moment they just sat there, their bodies cosy together in the night air.

"What's your family like?" Leonette asked suddenly.

"I thought you knew everything about the great Houses of Westeros?" teased back Will, earning him a sharp pinch from Leonette.

"I mean what are your brothers are like? What sort of people were your parents?" she asked more insistently.

Will felt a deep sense of discomfort at her questions; the memory of his family was a wound that had not yet healed, and perhaps never would heal. "There's little to tell, I'm sure you've heard the stories of the rebellion." he said, in perhaps a more sullen tone than he meant.

Leonette lifted her head from Will's shoulder and looked him in the face, her hand wrapping around his. "Forgive me. I did not mean to cause you grief or offense Will. I sometimes speak before I think." she said apologetically.

For a time he was silent, trying to muster his thoughts together, to harden himself from all the pain that would inevitably resurface. "I loved my Father, but I don't think he understood us too much. His ambition ruled everything he did; he so desperately wanted Stark influence throughout Westeros. Ben and I were to be fostered off to southern lords just like Ned was, whilst Brandon and Lyanna were betrothed against their wishes."

"He sounds like a difficult man."

"He was, but I don't blame for him too much. Mother died giving birth to _me_ so he had to take charge of us all in his own ways, it's just that his ways would never make us happy." said Will, his voice dripping with melancholy.

"What of your Brothers?" she asked tilting her head to look up him .

Will couldn't help but smirk in memory of his brothers. "Well Bran was absolutely mad," he said with a large grin spreading across his face. "I'm fairly certain he wasn't afraid of anything. He would always be there whenever there was trouble, always just acting without thinking…. .Completely opposite from Ned who was always the quiet one, the sensible one. Ben, now he was a bit of both. He had Ned's sensible nature and Bran adventurousness and he was the closest to me in age, we used to be practically joined at the hip as boys, always getting into trouble together….when Ned went off to war with Robert it was just the two of us in Winterfell and I dare say it was Ben's good spirit that got me through a lot of those nights of grief."

Will's mind went to his other sibling, the one that Leonette was too afraid of asking him about. He could still remember Lyanna coming to him after his argument with Maester Walys. He had been skulking in the godswood for half a day when finally his big sister came and sat down beside him.

_"Father told me what happened." _

_"They say that the gods hate kinslayers….but I didn't mean it Lya! I didn't mean to kill her!" he had cried, sobbing so hard that he felt that he couldn't breathe._

_"Shhh Pup, dry your eyes. You're no Kinslayer, what happened with mother was nobody's fault. It was just the way of the world. Do you understand me? You have done nothing wrong." Lyanna then pulled Will close to her, putting her arms around the small boy's frame._

_"But if I had never been born then mother would still be with you all…" he said weakly._

_ "Mother may be gone, but I have the sweetest, littlest brother in all the kingdoms and I wouldn't trade you for anything..."_

Will shook the memory away and gave a charming smile at Leonette before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "What of House Fossoway? Do you have any siblings?"

"It is only me, my parents and a few uncles." She replied, disappointment apparent in her tone.

"I can't imagine not having someone to bicker with, what a deprived life you've had!" he declared with a laugh.

"Oh yes, unfortunately for me I was lavished with all my parents' attention and love." She chuckled back.

"Less people, less problems I suppose."

At that Leonette shifted beside him uncomfortably and looked as though she was wrestling with something in her head and the thought almost ready to break through the surface. Finally when she could no longer her thoughts back she looked at Will with those dazzling eyes of hers and suddenly her face turned very serious.

"My family has its fair share of sins." she said, biting down on her bottom lip nervously. "My uncle Quentin…. There are rumours that he may have defiled some of the servants, normally I would pay much mind to this sort of ideal gossip but lately he has been making…advances on Jeyne."

"Perhaps she should stay with lady Lynesse for the remainder of the tourney?" Will suggested, trying to offer what help he could, though dealing with lecherous old men was not one of his strong points.

"I think that would be for the best, Lynesse and I have known each other for years, she'll protect Jeyne." She replied, tears brimming her eyes.

Will gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Lynesse seemed nice enough…"

The mention of the Hightower woman's name caused Leonette turned sharply to Will with a slight gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"Speaking of Lynesse, I see that your northern friend Lord Mormont has made quite an impression." She said with a light giggle. "I hear that he intends to crown her Queen of love and beauty."

"And he's welcome to try, but he's going to have to unhorse me first." boasted Will, his silver eyes shining brilliantly.

The next morning Will returned to his camp with a slight spring in his step, much to the surprise of his companions. Domeric especially eyed him with a suspicious glance from his morning mug of ale and for a moment the two men stood in a brief stand off before finally Dom gave his old friend thumbs up and went back to his meal.

After finding Edrick Will had the boy help him with his armour and ready his horse for the day's first jousts, if Edrick suspected anything about Will's late night visit with Leonette then the lad kept it to himself. When they finally got to the grounds Will stood with the other knights to hear the match-ups for the day, it was here that Will heard who his first opponent would be.

The Lannister Steward began calling the names, one by one a lord or knight would be paired off, until finally the name of Will's opponent was called and the young Stark felt his heart sink:

"Ser Willam Stark shall be competing against…Oberyn Martell!"


	8. The Nest of Snakes

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING :(**

**A/N: And here's a new chapter! once again a massive thanks to all you kind,wonderful people who followed, reviewed, and favourited this story. You guys keep me going!**

The Red Viper. By all the gods in the world he had to compete against one of the deadliest men in the realm and for the first time in many years Will felt very afraid. The whole morning Will had been growing more and more anxious as he waited for his turn to come, checking his armour for weak points over and over. _Anywhere he can pierce my skin…_

Edrick, who was nervous by nature seemed to pick up on his lord's distress and acted in kind, hurrying about trying to ready Will's horse, which took him much longer than it should have. But eventually there was little more the two of them could do but stand and worry as they watched the other jousters compete.

Oberyn Martell was infamous around the seven kingdoms for two reasons; his fiery temper and his deadly use of poisons. Many a great warrior had met their end at the hands of the Red Viper's venomous weapons and quick speed, and word had it that he managed to Cripple Willas Tyrell during a joust much like the one Will was about to enter.

_Enough! You joust and you will win, for Leonette…_the thought of her managed to invigorate Will's spirit and all the while watching the other lords and Knights competing he keep saying her name over and over in his head, her bright blue eyes burned into his thoughts.

As lord Varner fell from his horse Will knew the time had come for his turn and he calmly mounted his horse and was lead out onto the field by a pair of squires, seeing Robert sitting up in the pavilion with his Lannister queen beside him Will gave a slight bow in the King's direction and was met by a cheer of approval by his brothers friend.

Up ahead Martell rode out on his great Dornish destrier, his armour glowing a fiery red in the colours of his House and a carefree look on his face. Will could not look away from the Dornishman ahead of him, his red armour dazzling out in the middle of warm summers day, It'll_ make a good target at least.._

Beside him Edrick handed will his shield and lance whilst the Viper's men did the same. Robert stood and made a speech about fairness and skill before telling them to begin as the squires quickly ran from the grounds. Will breathed in softly and thought of Leonette as he shut his visor and charged ahead. Through the thin slit in his helm he could see the viper coming closer and raised his lance, the weight making his arm ache slightly.

Within moments he felt something colossal hit him square in the chest with an explosion of splinters and knocking him back almost off his horse and knocking the wind out of him. It took Will half a second to realise that it was the Red Viper's lance that had struck him. Lifting his visor he saw that the wooden lance had shattered on his armour and left several large scratches at the silver Direwolf on his chest. His own lance had missed its intended target it seemed and the Red Viper was already getting another lance to charge again.

_Dammit you idiot keep going! You get the bastard and you knock him from his horse!_ He mentally chided himself as he raised his lance and charged off to meet the Viper. Despite his narrowed vision from his visor Will kept his gaze fixed on the prince as he rode forwards and as the distance between the two riders closed Will shoved the lance forward and caught the Dornishman square in the chest, sending a shower of splinters everywhere, yet the Viper remained seated on his horse.

Will signalled to Edrick who quickly ran out and handed him another lance and then retreated back to where it was safe. He groaned in frustration when he saw the Red Viper get ready for another charge. _And yet again the Viper rears to strike.._

Once again Will rode forwards to meet the Martell's lance and this time his result were less successful; he took another lance to the chest, this time he could taste blood and his grip on his lance faltered and he had barely enough energy to sit up much less ride but despite all that he continued on, a voice deep within his head urging him to go on for Leonette's sake. "Leonette." He muttered aloud, blood running from his mouth and with cold determination burning in his silver eyes Will rode as hard as he could to meet the Viper's incoming assault and with all his strength thrust his lance.

For a few seconds afterwards Will kept his eyes squeezed shut, and his whole body tensed waiting for a strike only to find one never came. When he opened his eyes time seemed to speed up and suddenly the crowd was alive with cheers and it was only when he turned his head to see the dornish horse striding onwards without a rider that he realised that he had unhorsed the Martell.

Slowly turning around Will now saw the Dornishman lying sprayed on the ground, and quickly dismounted and hobbled over towards the downed prince. The prince was groaning slightly and lifted his helm off, his lined face staring up at Will with some strange emotion in those black eyes of his. For a moment Will thought that the man would strike out at him, not unlike his namesake but never the less the young Stark held out his hand.

For a moment Martell stared at Will's outstretched hand, as though it was some strange foreign object but his dark eyes seemed to settle slightly and he took the hand with a smile and Will helped him up much to the cheers of the crowd.

Walking towards the pavilion in front of Robert and his wife, Will was announced the victor much to the king's amusement. "Look at that! You put the Viper back in his hole! Gods it's good having another Stark around for a change."

Limping out of the grounds amidst the cheers Will desperately wanted to get back into his tent and sleep for a week, but as he was making his way out a hand gently tapped on his shoulder and he almost jumped when he saw that it was Oberyn Martell himself.

"You rode well ser Willam, one of the better jousters I've competed against." he said in a cheerful tone, his black eyes swirling with something that could be amusement.

"As did you prince Oberyn, I fear another lance to the chest and it would have been the end of my tourney days." replied Will, trying to smile as best he could despite his fatigue.

"Well in any case, you forgot to take my armour and horse when you left, no doubt you'll be wanting to ransom them back." A smile still gracing the Dornishman's face, though whether it was genuine or not Will could not say.

"Keep them. I have little need for coin nor do I want to shame you."

At that the Viper seemed genuinely surprised and his eyes seemed to soften significantly and a small smile crept onto his face. "Well then I insist you sup with me tonight in my camp!" he said in a jovial voice.

"Oh really, prince there's no need…"

"Nonsense! It's the least I can do, there are so few true knights in the realm and it wouldn't be right for one to go unrewarded." replied the Red Viper, his tone a little more forceful.

"Alright then, I'd be happy to." said Will, shaking Martell's outstretched hand.

Will had been escorted to the Vipers tent by a couple of dornish servants as the sun was setting, it would be an early dinner but he had the feeling that he would be there for some time. As he entered the large tent he was greeted by a strangely exotic woman sitting at the centre table, when she saw him enter she stood and curtseyed as well as giving Will two small kisses on the cheeks, catching the young Stark of guard. "M-my Lady." He stuttered out, before giving a slight bow.

"Ser Willam, I am honoured….and a little surprised; it's not often that Oberyn brings home northmen." She said with a wink, causing Will to blush like a maiden.

"I see you've met Ellaria." Came Martell's voice as he entered the tent.

The woman, Ellaria, went to her lover's side and gently kissed him before he gestured for the three of them to take a seat. Within moments servants came rushing in laying pots and plates before them, serving all manner of strange dornish foods. Will was struck by how spicy and hot the meals were yet didn't want to offend his hosts so kept eating, but he made sure to only drink after the prince did so as to avoid poison, though Will doubted the viper would be so brazen to do it in his own tent. At first he and the prince exchanged pleasantries, talking of the joust and how his injuries were healing as well as finding they both shared an interest in riding and horses. The prince actually managed to surprise Will by suggesting he meet Willas Tyrell, who he said was quite a good friend of his, much to the young Stark's shock. Seeing Will's surprised look Oberyn explained that there was no resentment between the two and they in fact exchanged letters often.

After speaking together for over an hour Will decided that he finally wanted to cut to the chase and see what the viper's game was. "This quite a lovely meal prince Oberyn, but I must ask….why did you really ask me here tonight?"

The Viper's eyes shined with something, amusement perhaps, but Will couldn't be sure. "Ah straight to the point, well I suppose you could say tonight was an audition." He said with a quiet smirk on his face.

"An audition for what?" asked Will dumbfounded much to Ellaria's delight.

Martell looked off into space, as if searching for the right words to materialize whatever was swirling around in that deadly mind of his. "You have the look of a wounded man." He said finally. Will was about to respond but Martell raised his hand to silence him before continuing on. "Now don't take that as an insult, but I can see it in your eyes; you carry great pain within you. You know what it is like to have someone you love torn away from you only to suffer at the hands of monsters, your father, brother, sister. All dead. The pain leaves a mark ser Willam, one I know only too well."

Then it dawned on him. "Elia, princess Elia." He said quietly only to be met with a slight nod from Oberyn.

"You want to know something? Our two Houses were the ones to suffer most in that damned rebellion and we weren't even on the same side. The gods are laughing…" his expression now one of extreme melancholy.

All the while Will remained completely silent as the Red Viper continued with his reminiscences. "It's ironic isn't it? Your sister and mine were both victims of Rhaegar Targaryen's foolishness…and because of those monsters that currently sit in power." Oberyn's black eyes were glistening with unshed tears; however there seemed to be a deep rage within them as well.

"We have a drunken brute as King, I concede that. But he is better than the creature that burnt my father alive." Said Will with cold fury in his eyes.

Oberyn looked at him hard now, his black eyes going over Will's form, trying to decipher him, yet a reptilian smile crept along his face. "And if he hadn't been stabbed in the back by Jaime Lannister how far would you go to kill the madman? How long would your path of revenge last?"

"Until the end of my days, I would not rest until I could squeeze the life from his throat."

A bark of laughter erupted from the Viper's throat and he took a few moments of long protracted laughing before finally he looked Will in the eye.

"Then you know where I'm coming from. Tywin Lannister had my sister and her children murdered, I will not rest until he and all he loves lay dead at my feet." he said evenly.

"Why are you telling me of your hatred of Tywin Lannister?" asked Will in confusion.

The Viper looked at him carefully before finally speaking in what was little more than a whisper. "My brother and I have heard rumour from our spies here in the Westerlands that Tywin Lannister still holds a grudge against Lord Ned for insulting him during the sack of Kings Landing. Your brother was the only man who had any shred of honour when Lannister presented the Usurper with the bodies of my niece and nephew, and for that I will extend to you two things: a warning and an invitation. A warning that you and your family stay wary of him and his children, they have their claws firmly in Robert Baratheon and that puts you Starks in danger as well."

Will took a moment to absorb all of this information; he took a sip of his wine and felt his head spin slightly at the weight of it all. "You said something about an invitation?" he asked after a moment.

That same reptilian smile spread across the Dornishman's face. "I've travelled quite a bit ser Willam and in my travels I decided that perhaps it would come in handy to have some foreign investments…my own sellsword company, the Silver Serpents. I'm not always in Westeros, but when I am things can get quite hectic with the men. I'm looking for a good man to hire, a man with proven battle experience and high enough rank to be able to help me manage my foreign affairs. I'd like that man to be you ser Willam of House Stark."

Now this surprised Will. Never in his entire life had anyone ever offered him anything of this much importance, never had he even imagined a fourth son could be capable of having a title or rank as high as this Dornish prince was offering him now. _There has to be a catch… _

"If….if I may ask, why me?"

Martell bowed his head pleasantly "You're a proven warrior, a hero of the Greyjoy rebellion and a leader of men, you come from a great House…but most importantly you know what it is to have those you love unjustly taken away from you. You and I are kindred spirits in a way and I can see great potential in your future."

_Think of all the glory you could achieve out amongst the free cities, more gold beyond your wildest dreams, free from the shackles of your birth.._ a voice whispered in his head, and he was so very tempted to take the Viper up on it. But then he thought of Leonette and Ned and his family. _I can't leave them..._

"I..I am sorely tempted Prince Oberyn, but I cannot accept, I have my duties up north and to my family." He croaked tiredly.

If he was disappointed, Martell didn't show it. Instead he smiled at Will with those black eyes of his and fumbled with something in his pocket; a silver badge of some sort, which he rose and placed it in Will's hand; it was a coiled snake made from pure silver.

"Well, the offer still stands. I have people everywhere ser Willam, if you ever change your mind show this to any Dornishman you see at a port and he'll take you to me. Until then I must bid you good night." And with that Ellaria stood from her perched spot and lead Will from the tent, his mind reeling from what he had just heard.

That night Will's dreams were filled with Dragons and Lions and snakes, so many snakes.


	9. A Crown of Blue Roses

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Here we are, the next chapter. As usual big thanks to those who reviewed, favorited and followed, :)**

The days following the Viper's offer Will managed to compete incredibly well; he had unhorsed both ser Jason Mallister and Ryman Frey with relative ease. It was only the thought that he would probably have to face against Jorah and then in all likelihood Jaime Lannister that kept him from feeling too confident with himself. _The Kingslayer is the best swordsman in the realm; if the Gods favour him in jousting as much as they do in swordsmanship then I've no chance…._

After winning his third joust Robert had asked, or rather commanded, that Will come feast with him in celebration. It'd been a glorious affair, with flowing wine; juicy cuts of meat and of course an abundance of whores. Seeing Robert drunkenly fondle and manhandle every woman at the feast actually made Will feel a pang of sympathy for Cersei Lannister, by all accounts she was a vain, cruel woman yet the humiliation Robert was heaving on her was unfair and Will wondered, not for the first time, how such a man could be as good friends with Ned as he was. Many times during the feast Robert would pull Will aside and tell him of some grand adventure he and Eddard had shared during their time in the Vale, Will of course laughed when he was supposed to and smiled when appropriate and every now and then added in a joke of his own but eventually grew weary of Robert's presence and after a few hours bid his leave and wondered back to his own tent, careful not to wake anyone.

The next morning he faced off against "Bronze" Yohn Royce, a tall old man who gained his name from the ancient bronze armour that he always wore for good luck and actually seeing the fierce warrior fully adorned in his ancestral war dress sent a chill down Will's spine.

Despite his uneasiness Will closed his visor and charged forward full speed, breaking his lance against the older man's chest. This seemed to do little to deter the man as he was already getting ready to charge again just as Edrick thrust a lance into Will's outstretched hand. The next charge caused both warriors to strike their opponents across the chest and whilst Will's armour was beginning to show signs of wear and slight damage; the bronze chest plate of Royce remained undamaged. _Perhaps it does bring good luck… _

The two continued for some time, breaking lances against one another until finally after five lances broken against him, did Bronze Royce finally fall, his armour still oddly undamaged. Despite realising how much Royce would pay to have his armour back, Will decided against claiming it or his horse. Later on inside his tent, the Maester came and inspected his injuries; Will's chest and torso were battered and bloody, so much so that young Edrick almost fainted at the sight of his lord's purplish-blue chest.

The young Stark decided on remaining in his tent for the remained of the day, away from any potential well-wishers or drunken friends; as much as he enjoyed company he knew his body couldn't handle a hangover in its current state and if he was to defeat Jorah on the morrow he would need his full strength, so instead he settled in and read one of the old books that Maester Luwin had given him detailing the fall of the Ghiscari empire. It was an admittedly dull tome but it helped take his mind off of the treasonous thoughts the Red Viper had planted in his head that had haunted his dreams ever since their meeting.

However he didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts as Domeric entered his tent quietly, sitting down across from him and pouring himself a cup of wine. Will raised his eyebrows at his friend who merely looked at the bruises showing through the young Stark's tunic, something unreadable in his pale eyes.

"Are you going to continue to sit there looking so fucking glum or are you going to tell me what's on your mind Dom?" he asked after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm just wondering if you've finally had your fill of personal glory. Or do you plan to continue with this foolishness?" replied Dom with a sharpness to his voice as he gestured to Will's injuries.

"I'm doing this for-"

"For lady Fossoway, Yes I remember. But do you really think that by placing a reef of flowers on her head that you'll win her heart?" he said, cutting off Will.

A cold fury washed over Will then and his voice suddenly became as icy as his eyes. "I learned a long time ago just how powerful a reef of blue roses can be."

Dom seemed to flinch at his friend's words yet continued on with his speech undeterred. "Look, I mean no disrespect Will, truly I don't, but what I'm trying to say is that you don't need to win her heart with grand gestures when you already have it."

"But I can win Dom, you know I can. What's so wrong with showing the world how I feel about Leonette?" he asked in confusion.

"Nothing it's just…." He trailed off, trying to figure out his next words carefully. "I think that perhaps Jorah has the right of it."

"what?" questioned Will. Truly he had not thought of Jorah's own reasons to win the tourney as he was so caught up in his own victories and by the Viper's words.

Dom let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his short dark hair. "You and Leonette already love each other, and you're a Stark of Winterfell; one of the oldest and greatest Houses in Westeros, yours is the blood of the kings of winter….you have much to offer Leonette and her family, but Jorah…Jorah is the lord of a cold little spit of land with very little gold or status to his name, perhaps it would be better if he had this chance?" for one of the few times in his life, Will had saw a desperate pleading in Dom's eyes.

Will let out a deep sigh and pinched the ridge of nose in frustration, but said nothing. Domeric seeing his friend's silence rose and made to leave the tent, but just before he did he turned at looked his friend once more, a look of disappointment set in his cold features.

The next morning Will woke early, finding his sleep uneasy and restless. He broke his fast alone with only his thoughts to keep him company. As he called Edrick in to help him into his armour he felt the burning prickly sense of guilt in the back of his neck and instead of looking into the mirror at his armoured form in pride as he usually did he now felt a deep sense of shame. All sorts of scenarios swam through his mind as he and Edrick approached the tourney grounds _would she really be upset if I withdrew from the lists or would she understand and say that my love was enough?_

Edrick, whom was generally very good at picking up on Will's moods knew that it was best if he kept quiet as he slowly led the horse to the tourney grounds, but Will could see him sneaking glances at the young Stark out the corner of his eyes, a look of distress clouding his youthful features and as Will mounted his horse and took the lance he gave his squire the most reassuring smile he could before sending him on his way.

When Jorah rode out on his own horse at the far end of the grounds Will once again felt an extreme sense of shame overwhelm him. _Am I really going to deny one of my best friends the chance at true love?_ Will asked himself over and over.

Robert once again stood up from his spot in the pavilion and shouted out a grand speech about how the winner would go on to face the Kingslayer and, should they defeat him, become champion and all the glory that follows. Will groaned inwardly _Yeah thanks for rubbing it in Robert. _And with a sigh he closed his visor and focused on Jorah, from what he had seen his friend was as skilled on horse as he was on foot; he'd make Will work for it.

With a shout the two riders charged onwards to each other, Will kept what little sight he had through the narrowed visor directly at the helm of Jorah. Was he feeling as much guilt as Will? Did he regret this as much as the young Stark did? Pushing those treasonous thoughts aside Will thrust upwards and stuck Jorah right in the shoulder, breaking his lance and nearly unhorsing the lord of Bear island then and there.

The big man managed to regain his balance however and ever so slowly begun to continue. As Edrick handed Will a lance he briefly lifted his visor and scanned the crowd, so many faces and yet one stood out; her shining blue eyes watching him, her expression was unreadable from his position, a smile perhaps? He saw Lynesse Hightower sitting beside her, her hands clutching her handmaiden's in what Will could only guess was worry. _For Jorah_ he realised, _she needs him to win, needs him to have this so that he prove his love to everyone who would deem him unworthy of her._

Will finally understood what he was depriving his friend of and knew what he must do. Closing his visor he rode onwards, watching as Jorah galloped towards him, lance at the ready. Will raised his own lance slightly closer to his body then usual and closed his eyes as Jorah's lance hit him square in the chest and knocking him back off his horse into the dirt below.

For a while he simply lay there, as the crowd cheered and cheered for the winner. He couldn't bear to see Leonette's face so he kept visor down, blocking off the outside world while the ceremony was completed.

Suddenly he felt desperate hands trying to remove his helm and after he raised a hand to cease their efforts Will lifted his visor to see Edrick kneeling beside him, a panicked look on his face, unshed tears sitting in his eyes. "A-are you alright ser? Can you move? Should I call the Maester?" he said quickly.

"I'm….quite alright Edrick, just another bruise to add to my collection." He said, trying to sound as calm as he could, wincing slightly as he sat up.

Jorah rode up in front of him and lifted his visor at the downed Stark, a large grin plastered on his hairy face. "Well it seems I beat you Stark."

"Aye, you did. I suppose you'll want the armour and horse?" he asked with a slight smile.

"I think seeing you in the mud is satisfaction enough." He laughed, but then leaned down and with a solemn face whispered "You have my thanks Will."

Will gave a weary nod and limped off with Edrick back to his tent. His squire insisting that he stay and help the young Stark until he was well enough to move about without having his entire body ache.

After calling a Maester to administer milk of the poppy Will fell into a deep sleep for the rest of the day, his dreams no longer full of snakes and crying children but rather the soft harmonious sounds of a harp accompanied by a beautifully sad voice. That same voice begun speaking to Will through the dark _"Everyone has a song, you'll see. A song of Ice and Fire to ward off the darkness"_

He awoke the next day with a start and the image of lilac eyes still on his mind, it took him a moment to realise he was back in his tent before he laid down, his brow sticky and damp from sweat. His limbs were weary and still a little sore, but he managed to get out of his cot and walk over to the flap of the tent, outside the sun was shining brightly overhead when suddenly Edrick almost ran into him, a plate of food in his hands that would have toppled over had Will not caught it.

"What's the rush lad?"

Edrick was fidgeting up and down on the spot. "It's ser Jorah, he's to compete against the Kingslayer in an hour….I was about to wake you in case you wanted watch."

Will smiled down at the boy's impatience. "Do _you_ want to watch lad?"

Now his squire was blushing slightly and looking at his feet "I-I just wanted to see if the Kingslayer was as good as everyone says he is." said the boy bashfully.

"Well after I've broken my fast then we can go watch, how's that sound?" he said ruffling the boy's hair.

Will broke his fast with a few small crispy pieces of bacon with a side of toast and eggs, washed down with a hearty amount of dornish red. After his meal he had Edrick fetch him some buckets of water so that he could wash himself and hopefully remove the smell of sweat and perspiration from himself for when he went to sit with the nobles in the pavilion. The water was frightfully cold but it helped rouse him completely from whatever hold the milk of the poppy may have had on him. Once cleaned and dressed he and Edrick made their way towards the pavilion.

Just as he and Edrick sat down Robert stood to make another of his boisterous speeches as Jorah Mormont rode out onto the field and Jaime "The Kingslayer" Lannister rode out the other end. Will had to admit that when looking at the two riders now he couldn't help but be dazzled by the Kingslayer's gleaming white and gold armour which made Jorah's plain grey metal plate seem very dull in comparison. _It's more than just appearances though _thought Will as he kept his eyes locked on Jorah's form, the big man's form tense and ready for what was to come.

As Robert finished his speech and declared the match to begin the two riders were off in an instant, the whole thing seemed quite odd to Will; when he jousted it felt much like it did when he was in the midst of battle with everything seemly slowed down, as if everything took hours. Yet from the position of a spectator he noticed that Jorah and Lannister had already stuck each once already and were about to go again.

It was remarkable, Jorah had managed to break three lances on the Kingslayer for every one the Lannister managed to score and he still seemed ready to continue. _What is the Lannister fighting for, glory? That is nothing compared to the lengths a man will go for love _thought Will as a small smile crept over his features.

The Kingslayer struck Jorah yet again but the big man was not deterred and continued to press on, by now both Will and Edrick were sitting on the edge of their seats as the two knights rode forth one final time. White armour met grey and within an instant it was over; the Kingslayer was on the ground.

Will let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and cheered along with the rest of the crowd as they went wild over the stunning upset. Robert was laughing away at the Kingslayer whilst Cersei looked as though she wanted to strangle him.

The crowd then grew silent as a member of the kingsgaurd handed Jorah the crown of blue roses, everyone held their breath in anticipation at who the knight was going to dub the queen of love and beauty. Will had thought he would be disgusted seeing the crown pass Leonette by but instead he felt great pride and joy that his friend had been able to show the world just how great his love for lady Lynesse was. Once he handed Lynesse the reef the entire pavilion erupted in cheers and every lord and lady went wild in celebrations.

In the days following the tourney's end Will had gone from one cask of wine to the next, helping Jorah celebrate his new betrothal to Lynesse Hightower. It seems lord Leyton had been thoroughly convinced by Mormont's victory over the Kingslayer that he was a man worthy of his daughter._ I wonder how Twin Lannister feels about having his golden boy defeated by some petty northern lord._ mused Will bitterly whilst downing his a cup of wine.

The ceremony had taken place inside a sept at Lannisport, done entirely by the ways of the southern seven gods much to the northerners chagrin, but it seemed that Jorah was willing to do anything and everything to appease his new bride and her family. The feast ended up being quite dull, at least as far as such things went, though Will had a feeling that it was his own dour thoughts that were putting a damper on his celebrations; he had yet to speak to Leonette and he now found himself quite worried as to what her reaction would be. _Will she rage and curse me for failing her? _

After the night drew to its inevitable close and the newlyweds were carried off for the bedding Will stumbled back to his tent nursing a skin of wine. He found that sleep would not come for him despite how drowsy the wine was making him, and after an hour of staring at the roof of his tent the young Stark decided to go rummage around camp.

After unceremoniously searching through several tents, Will finally found what he was looking for. A nice wooden harp, nothing fancy that a noble would use but it would make do. With some effort he carried the instrument back to his tent and then sat down to work it, moving his fingers as softly and precisely as his inebriated state would allow, all the while thinking back to when he had first been taught to use such an instrument.

_"You have to move your hands ever so gently, just the slightest pluck and tweak will carry the music." Said the silver man as he moved Will's hands into place, showing him what strings sounded like what all the while his sister watched on, a sad smile slowly creeping along her beautiful face._

"I had no idea you were a musician."

Will was rocked from his thoughts by the familiar voice entering his tent. Looking up he tried and failed to suppress a smile as Leonette sat across from him, she smiled shyly, folding her hands in her lap before meeting his eyes with her bright blue orbs, a wonderful blue ribbon tied into her honey locks.

His thoughts raced as he looked over at her, he wanted to say so many things but he found he couldn't put a voice to all of them, until finally he settled with the simplest thing he could think of. "I…I'm sorry I failed you."

At this Leonette merely giggled in that high sing song voice of hers before reaching over and taking Will's hand in her own. "I never cared for the flowers Will, I know you love me and that is enough. That is all I'll ever need."

"But I made you a promise.." he tried weakly.

"Oh hush. If it means so much to you that I wear those roses then you'll just have to win the tourney at Storms End for me." She said with a wink before cupping his face in her hands and bringing him into a deep kiss.

The next morning Will and the other northmen set out to return home, Jorah would join them later after his wife had appropriate time to bid farewell to her family and life in the south. The others seemed quite eager to return to their homes and families, Will himself was already starting to miss seeing Winterfell again, he briefly wondered how Robb and Jon were faring, no doubt giving Ned a handful, and he had yet to meet little Arya. From Ned's letters she was the image of Lyanna and he could already tell she was going to be the complete opposite of Sansa. _Well I'll see for myself soon._

He and Leonette had said their goodbyes in the early hours of the day, with her promising to write every month and Will promising to come back and win the tourney at Storms End for her. _Perhaps by then I'll have the courage to ask her hand in marriage _thought Will with a bright smile as he looked down at the blue ribbon in his hand. "So you don't forget me." She had said, with that same mischievous smile on her face. He had ensured her that the Wall would come down before that and gently kissed her for a final time and departed, the taste of strawberries staying with him all the way to Riverrun.

"Where to now ser?" asked Edrick beside him.

"Home."


	10. Homecoming

**DISCLAIMER: I own Nothing.**

**A/N: Another day, Another chapter. Once again big thanks to you brilliant people who reviewed, Favorited and followed this story.**

"_See_ Edrick, right where we left her."

The squire merely rolled his eyes at Will's attempt at humour as they approached Winterfell, though he tried to disguise it with jokes, Will was incredibly nervous about returning home after so long.

Riding into the courtyard Will was shocked to see not only Ned and Maester Luwin standing in attendance but also Catelyn and the children as well, and when he dismounted it was all Ned could do to hold them back as they ran up and gave him a great hug.

"It seems that Lord Stark has let two ferocious knights enter Winterfell!" said Will as he ruffled their hair, one a deep black, the other auburn. _If I was a stranger I would have thought Robb the bastard and Jon the trueborn _mused Will with a laugh.

Letting himself out of the boys' bear hug, he walked over to Ned and gave him a hug of his own. "It's good to see you brother." he said firmly.

"Aye, and you too pup." replied Ned, his grey eyes softening considerably.

Walking over to his good-sister Will gave Cat a soft kiss on the cheek before looking down at the babe in her arms._ Little Arya _he remembered. She was a tiny thing, heavily wrapped up in blankets, but she peered up at Will with silver eyes that mirrored his own. "She's a Stark alright." He said with a laugh, before looking down at the little girl hiding behind Catelyn's skirts.

"And who is that sweet little lady I see hiding there, could it be little Sansa?" he asked in a playful voice as he heard the little girl giggling from behind Cat's leg much to the laughter of the adults.

"So do you plan to stay for long this time Uncle Will?" asked Jon quietly from his side.

"Of course lad, we all know this place would turn to ruin if I stayed away for too long." He replied grinning down at the boy.

"Speaking of…" chimed in Maester Luwin , pulling out a letter from within his robes and handing it to Will, who noticed the red apple seal on it and quickly pocketing it away much to the surprise of the others who looked at him scrutinisingly, causing the young Stark to blush furiously.

"Something you're not telling us Will?" asked Cat mockingly.

"It's…nothing."

"Then why do you blush like a maiden?" she asked, a mischievous smile spreading across her face "Is it a love letter from some pretty girl?"

As Will struggled to respond Ned came over and clasped him on the shoulder, this time his eyes were back to their usual solemnity. "We must speak in Private Will, matters that I should have spoken to you about back on Pyke."

Will knew that look well enough and nodded "Aye, that we do brother, but first I would like to see Lyanna."

Ned gave a slight nod and Will turned towards the crypts.

Ever since he was a little boy Will had been frightened of the crypts beneath Winterfell, the dark tunnels, the cold statues watching him sternly like sentries ready to strike, but most of all he was afraid of the people whom belonged there, including one he himself had killed, though she did not have a statue, no, only the lords of Winterfell had that honour, the exclusion to that was Lyanna, whom Ned insisted be given a stone likeness. _Ned had the right of it, if any of us deserved to be remembered as such it would be her…_

Walking over to the statue Will placed a single blue rose, a looked up at its face, trying to see Lyanna in there at all, he found nothing but uneven stone looking back at him. _These things aren't even close to the real thing_ he thought angrily as he walked over to look at his father's statue.

"You're not here. None of you are here, this was a mistake."

As he stormed off out of the crypts he paused momentarily to look at the unmarked grave of his mother and tried to shake the feeling of guilt as he left it bare.

Ned was sitting in his solar discussing some matter with Maester Luwin as Will entered, clearing his throat lightly to get their attention. Ned looked up at him and gestured for him to take a seat, when he did his brother handed him a letter with the seal of House Manderly. Will briefly skimmed the contents of the letter and then looked back at Ned.

"I'm to go to White Harbor?"

"Aye, you're to take possession of the Wolf's Den."

"But is that not a prison now? And given to Ser Bartimus by lord Wyman to boot?" asked Will incredulously.

"Ser Bartimus has gracefully ceded his position to you." chimed in Maester Luwin.

"So…let me get this straight, I just got here and now you're already trying to get rid of me?" asked Will, anger boiling ever higher within him.

Ned however wasn't having any of it. "Enough of this childishness, you are a Stark of Winterfell, and Knight…it is time you took responsibility and did your duty. The Wolf's Den has long been a place of importance for our family, you are to go there and take the title."

Will rose, hands clenched and his silver eyes blazing, luckily Maester Luwin intercepted before the younger Stark did something he might regret. "You needn't stay there permanently Will, only for a month or so to help see things along, then you can return to Winterfell. Afterwards you would only need to visit on formal occasions and leave the rest of the care to the Manderly men and Ser Bartimus."

With a sigh of frustration Will sat back down in his chair and reached over for a cup of wine, downing it in one mouthful. If what the Maester said was true then he wouldn't have to be shackled to some miserable pile of rocks after all, but that still did not excuse Ned from springing this on him like he did.

"Why didn't you tell me of this earlier?" he asked Ned angrily.

"You wanted to go south with your friends, you had just been made a knight...and I saw the look on your face that day when we made Balon Greyjoy surrender." His brother's voice had now softened considerably. "You were…wounded somehow. I did not think it fair to heave this upon you after so much had happened."

Will could still remember the little girl's frightened eyes in his nightmares, something that wouldn't go away no matter how much wine he drank or victories he won.

"I beg your forgiveness for my arrogance." Will said after a moment.

Ned smiled at him and clasped his arm. "There's no need Pup, I know what you're like but that's part of the reason why we all love you."

The entire family supped together that night with the exception of Jon. _Oh no, lady Tully couldn't stand the presence of a bastard eating at the same table as herself, that would be improper _thought Will bitterly. He and his good-sister got on reasonably well most of the time but every time he saw how horrible she treated Jon he found himself overcome with a bitter rage. _And why shouldn't I be upset? Jon's as much my nephew as Robb._

"So Robb, how have your lessons with ser Rodrick been going? Old bugger hasn't been too hard on you has he?"

The boy's eyes light up with excitement as he explained all the new fighting methods he had been taught and how he had learnt to shoot from horseback.

"So you like archery?"

The boy hesitated for a second before answering "I'm alright, though Theon is the best archer I've ever seen! He shoots his targets from one hundred and fifty paces!" exclaimed the boy excitedly.

In all honesty Will had completely forgotten about Winterfell's newest guest and so far he had yet to see the boy around and he thought that perhaps that was for the best._ I did cut his brother's head off…_

"Where is Theon?" he asked mildly.

"He's supping with Jon and ser Rodrick tonight." Said Robb innocently, though Will could tell the boy wasn't happy about the decision, although Will could not decide on who it was the boy missed, his bastard brother or his father's new ward.

After another hour of eating and catching up Catelyn sent the children off to bed much to Robb's protestations "I wanted to talk with uncle Will!" he complained with a pout.

"I'll still be here tomorrow lad!" he called as the boy was marched to bed by his mother.

Now it was just the Stark brothers sitting at the table and for a moment they said nothing, sitting in comfortable silence, quietly drinking their wine when suddenly an idea floated into Will's head.

"About this trip to White Harbor…..I'm thinking about asking Jon to come with me, provided that it's alright with you."

An uncomfortable look crossed Ned's features and he shifted slightly in his chair. "Jon's place is here in Winterfell." He said after a moment.

"You and I both know that Catelyn does not share that belief, nor will she ever make him feel like a true part of the family" said Will watching his brother's face fall at the mention of his wife's bitterness. "Perhaps it would do them both good to spend some time apart. Besides, it'll only be for a month and I swear I won't let him out of my sight."

Will could see that there was a battle raging inside of Ned's mind as he weighed the options, before finally he gave a sad nod. "You must promise me that you'll keep him by your side at all times, that you'll not let any harm come to him. Promise me Will." He said, with a tone so utterly chilling that Will actually felt his heart freeze up for a moment.

"I promise."

The next morning he found Jon out in the courtyard practicing his swordplay with Robb and Theon Greyjoy whilst ser Rodrick shouted instructions to them as they went along. They suddenly stopped what they were doing when they saw Will approaching and ser Rodrick came over to greet him for the first time since he arrived home.

"Willam, how've you been lad?" he asked cheerfully as he clasped Will's shoulder.

"I've been well, thanks to you. Everything you've taught me has kept me alive."

The older man let out a bark of laughter and playfully smacked Will on the back. "What brings you out here then?"

"I need to speak with Jon for a moment if that's alright with you."

Ser Rodrick nodded and went over to speak with the boys, sending Jon over as he had Robb and Greyjoy begin to show him some new strikes. When Jon came over he smiled slightly at his uncle, having just become aware that he was not in any sort of trouble.

"You wanted to speak with me uncle?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm going on a trip to White Harbor in two days' time, I was wondering if you'd like to come too?" he asked watching as his nephew's reaction. "I've already spoken with your father about it and it's alright with him."

Jon's face grew into a broad grin "You mean it? I can come with you? What about Robb and Theon? Are they coming too?" he asked suddenly, attacking Will with a barrage of questions much to his amusement.

""I'm afraid Robb has duties here that he needs to attend to and Theon….well I don't think he likes me too much." He said with a laugh as he eyed the Greyjoy staring back at him from across the courtyard.

Jon's expression hardened and for a moment he looked exactly like Ned had at that age. " Well that's alright uncle because I don't like _him._"

Will chuckled at that and ruffled the boy's hair. "That's the spirit lad! You best get back to your lessons before ser Rodrick starts taking it out on me."

The trip to White Harbor took them about a week, and for most of the journey they followed the White Knife River all the way down in order to stay on course. Along with his nephew and squire Will had brought twenty men to escort them into the silver city. Jon seemed to enjoy himself as they crossed the countryside, aside from his long talks with Will, he and Edrick seemed be getting on well. _This is probably the first time he's ever spoken with another bastard_ mused Will as he watching the two talking together while they gathered wood for the nights fire.

Later that night after most of the men had gone to sleep Will sat up and stared into the campfire, wondering not for the first time if the flames held any visions of the future like the Red Priests claimed. Will could only see fire.

"Can I ask you something uncle?" came Jon's voice returning Will back to reality.

"Of course." He said at once.

"Do…..Do you know who my mother is?" he asked uncertainly, as if he was afraid Will would shout and rage over the question.

Will had often wondered on the boy's parentage ever since Ned brought him to Winterfell so many years ago. He had thought as a child that the wet nurse whom attended to him as a babe was his mother, but had dismissed it later on. His brother was the most honourable man he had ever known and surely he wouldn't break his wedding vows for a simple roll in the hay with a common girl, but given that Jon was roughly the same age as Robb it is possible that his mother was someone whom Ned may have loved before he was wed to Catelyn Tully. _There was one, with long dark hair and violet eyes…. _

He thought back to that Tourney so long ago when he saw Ned and Ashara Dayne dancing together, how she had made even quiet Eddard open up to the world and later on he had caught the two of them outside as she gave Ned a light kiss. The more he thought of the idea the more it began to make sense, why even Ned's trueborn children with Catelyn favoured their mothers looks more, aside from Arya, perhaps the reason Jon has the dark Stark colouring is because his mother had dark hair as well? Then he had another thought, _Lady Dayne took her own life after Ned killed her brother, perhaps that's why he does not speak of her…_

"Your father has never told me." Was all he said, however Jon would not be deterred.

"But you may have known her once? Even met her?" he insisted.

He looked at his nephew's desperation and felt himself grow a little angry at Ned for his secrets. "I cannot be sure Jon. I was only a child myself during much of that period."

Seeing his nephew's face fall, Will put his hand on the boy' shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Here's what I do know of her though….I know that for her to be able to melt your father's heart she would have had to be one of the most loving, and gentle people in all the realms. And I know that such a woman would not abandon you Jon. She may not be here" he gestured around them. "But I know she is definitely in here." he said pressing his hand to the boy's heart.

Jon smiled a little at that and Will told him to go on to bed as they would be setting off at first light and Will wondered not for the first time, if perhaps so much would have been better for everyone if someone else won that damned tourney at Harrenhall so many years ago.


	11. The Wolf's Den

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Once again a big thanks to all those who reviewed, followed and favorited the story :D**

White Harbor was a glorious city to behold, not quite as large or as indulgent as Lannisport but it had its own charm that Will could appreciate. It was big but not _too_ big; it was vibrant but not so vibrant that its inhabitants were arrogant or smug like the Westermen were.

They did not have to ride long before they were met by several men adorned in the Merman of House Manderly; among them was a very bald, very fat man with a large moustache who introduced himself as Wylis Manderly, eldest son of lord Wyman. The fat man apologized for his lord father's absence but said he was too unwell to travel, Will, remembering his manners simply smiled and said that he understood. After that they were escorted towards the New Castle that the Manderlys called home and Will found himself disappointed with how small it looked._ It is only small in comparison to Winterfell _he reminded himself as he walked through its large white stone walls.

Whatever short comings the castle's exterior may have had, its great hall more than made up for. The "Merman's court" as it was called was a grand affair; its walls, floor and ceiling were made of wooden planks notched cunningly together and were decorated with all manner of sea creatures. Under Will's feet the floor was decorated with many painted crabs and starfish laying half hidden among vibrant green seaweed and darkened bones of fallen sailors, the walls featured sharks and eels as they slithered through shipwrecks torn open. All of these images seemed to lead up to the dais before them, on the dais sat a cushioned throne and on that throne sat what was probably the fattest man Will had ever seen , with a belly that stood out so far that Will thought the man was ready to pop, this man had to be Lord Wyman Manderly.

"Ser Willam! Greetings! We are most honored to have you here!" boomed the lamprey lord, his multiple chins bobbing.

"The honor is mine my lord. It is not every day that one is invited to such a beautiful city." replied Will, laying on his charm as best he could.

Lord Manderly smiled broadly at that. "You and your companions must be tired from all your travelling and I would be remiss if I did not celebrate the new castellan of the Wolf's Den, so tonight Ser Willam White Harbor will throw you a feast the likes of which you have never seen before!" announced Wyman with a large cheerful grin on his face.

Shortly after lord Manderly's proclamation began the largest meal of Will's life with over twelve courses of a variety of different fish, crab, lamprey pies and even a serving of octopus much to his nephew's horror. It hadn't taken long for the servants to quickly set up the appropriate tables and turn the Merman's Court into one set for a feast_. Judging by the size of the Manderlys they've had ample practice…_

"Might I ask who your two young companions are Ser Willam?" Asked Lord Manderly from Will's left with a mouth full of octopus. "The younger one has the distinctive Stark look about him." He said, finally swallowing andthen gesturing to Jon sitting down a few seats next to Edrick.

"Aye, that is my nephew Jon." He replied, without going into any detail._ No need to go into the circumstances of his birth…_

"It is good to see that you and Lord Eddard haven taken care of the boy, I know more than a few lords who would have left their…natural children to fend for themselves." said Manderly with a sympathetic smile.

"Whether his parents were wed or not makes little difference to me, he is my blood and I treat him as such."

Lord Manderly nodded in agreement at that and began what seemed like his fortieth helping of pie, whilst Will sat and downed wine glass after wine glass and listened to ser Bartimus tell him of all the glory he had accomplished when he saved Manderly during the battle of the Trident at the cost of his eye and leg, and how despite being from White Harbor he and his family kept to the Old Gods.

Despite knighthood being considered a title bestowed by the grace of the seven southern Gods, Will himself had never been all that devout; he learnt of the seven from Cat when he was younger and had been educated much the same as Robb and Jon had yet he found he could never let go of the Old faith._ The faith of my father _mused Will as he took another mouthful of wine.

Much later after the feast was over and the many lords and guests had left, Lord Manderly and ser Bartimus lead Will, Edrick and Jon through a passage way that lead them down and down until finally they were out of the castle and at an opening that lead to the ancient fortress of Wolf's Den. It was a behemoth of stone standing roughly out just beside the sea, its large wooden gates almost seemed like a monstrous mouth _and we're going into the belly of the beast _thought Will as he was lead into the Keep's interior.

Whilst inside they were greeted by the castle staff who were all lined up to meet the new castellan, they were mostly washerwomen, cooks and a few guards but there was one man whom Ser Bartimus gestured to come over, a large bald man who seemed to have a permanent glower stuck on his face.

"This is Garth milord; he's our gaoler, headsman and…conversation starter." said Bartimus with a laugh.

"Conversation starter?" asked Will in confusion.

"Well…when you be wanting a man to tell you something, Garth here he _convinces_ 'em to tell." said the old knight with a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

_The man is a torturer _realized Will who nodded in understanding to Ser Bartimus, and then gestured for the knight to lead on, or rather hobble on as fast his crutches would allow him. Eventually they reached a Godswood that was supposedly home to gruesome rituals by ancestors of Ser Bartimus, who seemed to swell with pride over the fact.

Eventually after going through all the prison cells and servants quarters they finally led Will to his new chambers, which was really quite simple in its design; a large bed, a study and desk, a dinner table, a privy and a book shelf lined with old tomes. All in all Will was satisfied; considering he wouldn't be staying for too long a time he was happy to have the basics.

As ser Bartimus lead Jon and Edrick to their own chambers Will and Lord Manderly sat at the dinner table and discussed the young Stark's plans for Wolf's Den.

"Are you happy with the arrangements Ser Willam?" asked the lamprey lord "You only need to say the word and I can have anything you want brought here." He offered sincerely.

"That's very generous of you my lord but everything seems to be quite satisfying…..though I must ask, are there any more secret passage ways in and out of the keep?"

"There are a few tunnels that lead in and out of the city, to which only I and ser Bartimus are aware." said Manderly with a sly smile.

"That could be very handy."

That night after they had all settled into their new quarters, Will sat at his desk reading a message the local Maester had for him, it was a letter bearing the seal of House Fossoway. Will smiled as he held the letter in his hand, savoring the fact that Leonette had handled the same thing he held in his own hands now. _It's the closest I can get to touch her _he mused sadly.

Will had seen to it that before he left Winterfell that Leonette was aware of his new position in White Harbor and soon after her letters had begun to find him there too. She wrote of how her uncle had fallen from a horse and had been confined to his bed for weeks and how she felt more comfortable having Jeyne around now. She also asked of what news he had of Lynesse and Jorah in Bear Island as she had not received word from her friend in over three weeks and was starting to worry. But mostly she talked of how she longed to see him again and Will felt his own heart ache at the thought, how far away she was, he still had her blue ribbon with him which smelt like the honey of her hair yet he still longed for her embrace again, of her taste again, and sat down to write back his feelings to her. He still meant to keep to his word about crowing her Queen of Love and Beauty at the tourney at Storm's End. _Surely Ned will give me leave to compete, and then when I win I'll ask her hand in marriage…._

The following month went by rather uneventfully, with Will finding out all the ins and outs of White Harbor, about any pirate or smuggling activities off the coast and having his men investigate them, as well as fortifying the cities defenses against possible attack. During most trips out into the bay Will would have Jon accompany him to get an understanding of what it was like on ship. "Who knows," he had said "One day you might find yourself in the midst of a war fleet." To that the boy nodded his head resolutely.

Lord Manderly was fond of throwing celebratory feasts and as the castellan of Wolf's Den it was expected of Will to attend, so attend he did. Lord Wyman himself seemed like a good man despite what some of the other northern lords had said and Will found him to be quite pleasant to speak with.

One night after Will and Jon were returning from such a feast Jon looked up at him with a look that was so utterly like Ned and asked him if he planned on living in White Harbor permanently, Will had smiled and patted the boy's shoulder and told him that despite his duties here that Winterfell would always be his true home and that nothing would ever change that.

Eventually Will found that everything was going smoothly with White Harbor and that the new status quo was firmly in place and that he was no longer required, so with his nephew and squire in tow he bid Lord Manderly farewell, promising he would return as soon as he was able. Lord Manderly had of course thrown them a goodbye feast to mark the occasion.

When they returned to Winterfell Will was greeted by his brother and Robb as well as a figure covered in a black cloak standing beside them. At first Will was confused at who the man was until suddenly realization struck him.

"Ben?"

The man lifted his hood to reveal his brother's thin face and sharp blue eyes staring back at him a huge grin covering his features as he pulled Will into an embrace.

"Gods be good you've grown tall pup!" he said with a gleam of amusement in his icy blue eyes, to which Will could only laugh.

"So are the rumors true then, First Ranger?" asked Will in disbelief.

"Aye it is. But what about you! My little brother…Knight of Wolf's Den." He said proudly.

"Ned had to find some way of keeping me busy."

"And I see you're involving Jon in your schemes as well, eh lad?" he asked as he ruffled their nephew's raven locks.

Ned gave the boy a hug of his own before leading them all inside so that they could sup together after Will had time to get himself cleaned up and settled back into his chambers whilst Jon ran off to play with Robb.

Dinner that night was an intimate affair, with only Will, Ben and Ned in attendance as they caught up with the current goings on. Ben had apparently heard reports that the Wildlings had been stirring up trouble along the gift, apparently they were becoming more skilled at scaling the Wall. "It's the damned trees" he had huffed "We don't have enough men to be cutting 'em back and now they've grow all the way to the Wall in some places, all it takes if for a skilled climber with some rope to get from the tree line to the ice."

"I'll have to see that more recruits are sent your way brother." said Ned in his somber tone.

"Aye, that'd be much, appreciated Ned. Some of these trees are even taller than that great oak that Will got stuck in when we went to Karhold that time." Replied Ben, lightly hitting Will's shoulder.

"I was trying to get away from Lord KarStark's hound! Bran said that he was a man eater!" complained Will much to the amusement of his brothers.

"That poor thing? She wouldn't hurt a fly!" said Ned with a laugh.

"And it we were having a good old laugh seeing you stuck up there until Lya came after us with a blunt sword. Father looked like he was going to faint!" chimed in Ben, his eyes lost in deep reflection.

They all laughed at that and settled into silence as they thought back on their lost childhood and family long gone. Will kept thinking back on what Ben and Ned were talking about, when Lyanna came to his rescue. It was something that she did so often; she'd tease Ben and tell Ned and Bran what to do but she would always be gentle with Will, always looking after him when he was sad or scared. _She was more wolf blooded than any of us, yet she could be so gentle when she wanted.. _he could still remember when she and Ben had brought back Howland Reed after rescuing him from a pack of cruel Frey squires, she had a fierceness in her eyes buring like a silver fire.

They were interrupted from their thoughts by Maester Luwin as he hurried towards Ned with a message in hand, a look of exhaustion on his wrinkled face. " A message for you my lord, straight from Bear Island."

Will's ears perked up at the mention of his old friend's home and he leaned forward as a dark expression crossed Ned's face as he silently read the message.

"What is it Ned? Have the Ironmen attacked again?" he asked in concern.

For a moment Ned sat motionless but then he finally looked at Will, all the warmth of his face now gone out, instead replaced by his hard, grim lord of Winterfell look.

"Jorah Mormont has been caught selling two men to a Tyroshi slaver." He said icily.

"What? No that can't be right, Jorah got married only a few months ago, he fought by my side during the Greyjoy Rebellion. There's no way he would do that!"

"I have word from his aunt lady Maege that it is so. I will ride out on the morrow and deliver justice." He said firmly.

"Please Ned; you don't need to do this! He's my friend and he's saved my life more times than I can count, please brother have mercy." Pleaded Will, trying all he could to break through his brother's icy demeanor.

"He broke one of the oldest laws of the seven kingdoms Will. He must pay the price for his actions, one way or another." And with that he stormed from the room, leaving the younger siblings alone.

"He's a good man Ben, honorable and loyal to the end….I don't understand how this could have happened, gods be good! I was at his wedding." said Will, his voice full of despair.

"Ned has the right of it Will, slavery goes against the laws of gods and men, he must be punished." replied Benjen, his icy blue eyes locked on Will's own silver ones. "He doesn't have to die though" he said suddenly in a much softer voice. "If he's as honorable as you say then he can serve the Nights Watch and have his sins washed away. We're always looking for good men and I'm sure the old bear would much rather it this way as well."

"What if he refuses to take the black?"

"If it comes to that…then I'm sorry but our brother will take his head."


	12. It rhymes with Weak

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed, favorited and followed the story.**

It seemed Jorah Mormont was not an honorable man after all.

Not three days after Ned had ridden out to bring justice, they received a raven bearing news that Jorah Mormont and his wife Lynesse Hightower had fled across the narrow sea rather than face punishment.

Will could almost laugh at it if he didn't feel so betrayed, so he did what he always did when in a bad mood; drink himself into a stupor. Most of the servants and members of the household knew to steer clear of him when he got like this, and those who didn't were met with an icy glare if they tried to approach him. None of this however seemed to deter Benjen as he calmly strolled over towards his younger sibling and took a seat across from him, pouring himself a cup of wine as he did.

"You want to know something Ben?" asked Will from his cup. "When the walls of Pyke came down and Thoros had done his little fire trick it was Jorah who stormed in first, charging like an angry bear into the screaming Ironmen….it was only after seeing his bravery that I found the courage to run forth beside him." He laughed bitterly, before his face suddenly fell and his voice took a more serious note "That same, brave man who saved my life condemned others to slavery…I don't understand it."

Benjen leaned forward, and put his hand on Will's shoulder, his ice blue eyes softening, "Look Pup, Ned may see the world in terms of good and evil but when you've been on the Watch as long as I have…when you've fought, bled and died alongside thieves, rapists, murderers as long as I have, you begin to see things differently. I've seen good men carry out awful acts and I've seen bad men capable of great feats…no single act can define what's in a man's heart." he said looking into Will's eyes searchingly before rising and walking from the hall, leaving Will to his thoughts.

After he had sobered up a bit Will sat down to write to Leonette and tell her about everything that had happened with Jorah and Lynesse, he thought that perhaps she could shed some light on why they would do such a thing. He tried to put the matter as delicately as he could, or rather as delicately as one can when telling someone that their best friend is now an exile from the crown. _Gods if only I could go and tell her in person…._

He shook himself from his thoughts and decided to take a walk through the castle and see what his nephews were doing with themselves. Along the way he found himself colliding with Maester Luwin, knocking the old man over into the ground.

"My apologies Maester, I wasn't paying attention." He said as helped the old man to his feet.

"No harm done." He said with a smile until a look of realization came over him and he begun searching his robes for something. "I actually have a letter for you my lord, a raven came from the Dreadfort addressed to you." He said as he held out the elusive letter.

Will frowned as he broke the pink seal and started to skim over the contents.

_Dear Will_

_ I take it you've heard the news of our bear lord? Of course you have, no doubt your brother is on his way to exact justice as we speak. A shame, he was a loyal friend and hopefully he can see reason and join his father on the Nights Watch._

_ But enough idle gossip._

_I have sent this raven to invite you to the Dreadfort; I have a desperate matter to which I must speak to you about, one I fear that may have my family's life at risk. Please Will, you've always been my dearest friend and I need your help now more than ever, we must speak in person soon. I await your response. Tell no one._

_Domeric of House Bolton._

Will found himself at a loss over his friend's distress; Dom was usually calm and collected by nature and was very self-reliant; if he was this desperate then something must be extremely wrong._ His family's life may be at risk? What in the name of the gods is going on at the Dreadfort?_

Turning away from the confused Maester standing before him, Will quickly paced back to his chambers and begun to write his reply, telling his friend that he would ride out in three days hence though he was careful to be vague in case that the message was seen by the wrong people.

Will waited for three days until Ned finally returned, at which point he quietly yet firmly informed his brother that he was off to visit Domeric at the Dreadfort much to the elder Stark's disgust. "Lord Bolton is not a man to let your guard down for." he had said in that stern, cold voice of his whilst Benjen had simply shook his head.

"I'll have probably returned to the Wall by the time you get back." He said with a hint of sadness in his gruff voice.

For a moment the two brothers stared at each other before Ben finally gave his little brother a nod. "Farewell brother." said Will as he pulled Ben into a fierce hug.

After he had said his goodbyes to the family he gathered his things and rode out of Winterfell alone, despite Ned-and Edrick's, insistences; it was only a few days ride to the Dreadfort and he would make better time unencumbered by others, likewise he couldn't afford to have to many other parties involved with the matter, especially if the situation was as serious as Dom had suggested. _Better that Edrick stay in Winterfell than suffer Roose Bolton…_

He made sure to stay on the Kingsroad by day and sleep in the hedges by night, oddly feeling content at the simple pleasures of life away from courts and keeps, knights and lords, with only the road ahead and the stars above to think of.

On the third day of travelling he cursed himself rather loudly when he realized that he hadn't informed Leonette of his travel arrangements, nor had he brought along her blue ribbon keep sake. He briefly entertained the idea of sending a raven from the Dreadfort, yet quickly banished the thought from his head when he realized that might somehow make Roose Bolton aware of his and Leonette's relationship. Ned's words kicked around in his head once more "_Lord Bolton is not a man to let your guard down for"_

On his fourth day of travelling he finally found himself within distance of the ominous Dreadfort, with its high walls of dark stone and odd triangular merlons that looked frightfully look sharp horns. Will wondered not for the first time how his best friend could call such a place his home, but he supposed that Domeric had little choice in the matter.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Domeric ride out to meet him as he approached the castle, he knew that he may have had trouble trying to convince others of his identity and the last thing he needed at the moment was some Bolton man's blood on his hands.

Will had to suppress a gasp from escaping his mouth when his friend came closer; Domeric looked as though he had aged years in the months since he and Will had last met, he had a jagged scar running down his left cheek all the way down the side of his neck and there were dark rings just beneath his eyes, as though he hadn't slept in days. "No need to be polite Will, I look like shit." he said with a weak laugh.

"Gods Dom, what happened?"

"That's why I've called you here….someone has been trying to kill me." He said in a hushed tone.

Will was thoroughly surprised at that and looked his friend up and down for a moment before speaking. "What's been going on?"

Dom merely shook his head. "Not here, Gods know who might be skulking about around here."

And so they rode forth into the Dreadfort and after dismounting quickly they made their way inside the great castle. As they were walking through the main hall Will noticed that one of the servant girls had a slight bloody lip. _No doubt Lord Roose has been preying on the innocent women at work here…_

They paused briefly as they approached the dais up ahead which was noticeably empty of its lord. "My father is away dealing with a small matter, he'll no doubt return by sundown." Quickly explained Dom as he lead Will out through a door into his private study, shutting the door as the young Stark entered.

"Alright Dom enough, what's this all about." demanded Will.

Domeric's pale eyes shifted around uncomfortably before he finally let out a deep sigh and pointed to the scar running down his face. "I got this trying to fight off a footpad hired to kill me."

"What? Someone wants you dead? Are you sure?" asked Will in confusion.

"Aye, he died before he could tell me anything but I saw the bag of gold he was carrying. It was a hired attack Will." replied Dom with a voice so full of certainty that it almost sent a chill down Will's spine.

"Why would someone want you dead Dom?"

Domeric shrugged hopelessly and sat down at his study, a deep look of worry on his face. "I honestly don't know what I've done to offend anyone. I try to being fair to the small folk, I avoid confrontation when I can."

"What does your father think?"

A bitter look crossed Dom's face momentarily "He thinks we should keep the matter quiet, deal with it ourselves. He kept going on with his bloody motto 'a peaceful land, a quiet people' and all that nonsense…" he trailed off, seemingly crumbling under the pressure of it all.

Will walked over and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Well, you're in luck my friend because I haven't had a good fight in weeks; I'll help you find this bastard and take his head off."

Domeric smiled a little at that and stood up. "Well, I suppose we can't hide way in here forever. Let's go see mother then shall we?"

"How is Bethany? Will asked mildly as they walked down to the Dreadfort's library. Whilst the fortress was largely a gloomy and imposing place, the library seemed to have certain warmth attached to it, in part because it was the one place where its inhabitants were allowed some sense of familiarity. Domeric and his mother were both avid readers and would spend a great deal of their time there. There were several beautifully arranged windows that sent in beams of warm sunlight directly on the reading tables, so as to bask whoever was sitting there in a warm glow as they lost themselves in a tome of the past.

Sitting serenely by a windowsill was Bethany Bolton, a look of longing on her worn, yet still beautiful, face. Her faded brown hair was tied into a long braid which hung over her left shoulder as she sat quietly looking out at the courtyard. It was only when Will and Domeric were by her side that she finally looked up, her dark brown eyes glittering slightly as her face quickly changed from one of fear to love at the sight of her son.

_This is what a strong woman looks like_ thought Will. Bethany Ryswell was only six years old when a sweating sickness nearly claimed her life and as a result she was quite frail ever since, and through some extreme cruelty on her father's part she was betrothed to Lord Roose Bolton of all people. Will could only imagine the horrors that creature had inflicted on her daily, the agony she must have suffered, made all the worse by the extremes her body had been pushed to when she gave birth to Domeric. Yet somehow, despite all she had experienced and all she had endured she was still able to love Domeric with everything in her heart and still retain some sense of hope and compassion for others and for that Will couldn't help but be in awe of the woman. _Of all the people I have met Bethany Bolton is the bravest…_

"Domeric, you really ought to have the Maester look at that scar." She said in her faint voice as she gently took her son's face in her hands, ever so slightly caressing the wound.

"It's fine mother just a flesh wound, _you're _the one who's supposed to be resting." He chided with a laugh.

Yet Lady Bolton merely ignored him and looked over to Will with a smile and rose slowly from her cushioned chair and gave a slight curtsy, her body shaking with the effort yet still somehow, _somehow_ she managed to keep that serene look on her face.

"It is good to see you again Will, or rather Ser Willam now isn't it?" she asked in her quiet voice, a slight smile gracing her pale features.

At that Will went down on one knee and kissed her hand. "Lady Bethany, it is an honor and pleasure to see you again." He said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

He could see that a very faint shade of pink crossed her ivory cheeks as she gestured for him to rise.

"Will's going to be staying with us for a few days mother." Dom quickly explained as helped support his mother as they walked over towards the main hall, while Will kept himself at their slow pace as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm sure your father will be _grateful_ for the company." She said quietly, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

Will frowned a little but went about as they strolled through the keep, chatting away peacefully as they did, until finally lady Bolton grew too weary to travel and had her handmaidens escort her back to her rooms. Will noticed that one of the women was the girl he had seen earlier with a bloody lip, and felt a wave of guilt at thinking that it was perhaps better that Lord Roose took his activities out on her rather than Bethany.

As Will and Domeric walked past the courtyard a strong gust of wind hit them and the young Stark suddenly scrunched up his nose in disgust as a foul stench wafted past. "Do you smell that?" he asked desperately trying to cover his nose.

Domeric shrugged "I've been sick for the past week; I can't smell much of anything." He said blankly before laughing a little. "You didn't step in shit did you? You better not have dragged it into my home."

"It's fainter now but Gods it was rank. One of your men at arms must have shit themselves!" declared Will with a bark of laughter.

Domeric merely shook his head in amusement and lead the Young Stark back inside the keep.

It was exactly dusk as Lord Roose Bolton returned, and Will could feel a visible change in the castle's atmosphere as all the servants and workers quieted and tried to hurry out of his way as he bristly strolled into the main hall, his eerie pale eyes moving slowly across the everyone in the room until finally they settled on Will. "Ser Willam. What a pleasant surprise, had I known you were coming I would have made sure to be here to greet _you_ instead of how we currently find ourselves." He whispered in his almost hiss of a voice.

Domeric cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Will was passing through our lands father, so I thought it would be proper if we invited him to stay here for a few days."

Lord Bolton made no outwards expression other than a mere nod of his head, before returning his gaze to Will. "The hospitality of the Dreadfort is yours Ser."

After that Lord Bolton disappeared into some part of the Dreadfort for a time, leaving Will and Domeric to each go off and prepare themselves for dinner. Domeric had already told Will where his chambers were, and due to the Young Stark's somewhat familiarity of the keep from his past visits he managed to find them without any fuss. The room itself wasn't that large, yet it was warmed fairly well much the same way Winterfell was, although as Dom had informed him so long ago, the Dreadfort gained its heat from volcanic vents rather than the hot springs of Will's home.

Eventually after he had bathed and gotten into a fresh set of clothes he made his way towards the main hall which was surprisingly empty aside from Domeric and Roose Bolton himself sitting at the head of the large dining table. Will took his seat across from Domeric, to the left of Roose and as he did a servant quickly poured his cup full of Arbor gold, which the young Stark drank heartily. He knew that he'd need some form of intoxication to be able to tolerate the leech lord's company.

"It was most unfortunate that the traitor Jorah Mormont escaped Lord Eddard's justice." Said Lord Bolton mildly as the servants placed the food onto the table, and Will could see that Domeric was visibly clenching his jaw in anger. Will himself felt a rush of anger at Bolton's careless words, yet bit his tongue. "_ Lord Bolton is not a man to let your guard down for…"_

"Yes, I was quite shocked that he had escaped without experiencing the cold steel of ice." Said Will, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

Lord Bolton's eyes moved ever so slowly from Will towards Dom, there was something going on behind those lifeless eyes yet whatever it may have been was hidden behind the paleness. When he spoke again it was so quiet that Will had to lean forward to hear. "Well I suppose it couldn't be helped. How was Lord Eddard to know that the bear knight was a coward with no honor?"

_ As if you know anything of honor_ thought Will using every ounce of self-control to stop himself from attacking the man. But as he begun to slowly eat his meal he could see lord Bolton formulating yet another verbal barb, yet before he did Domeric thankfully changed the topic.

"Why is mother not joining us?" he asked.

Will thought he saw something that may have vaguely resembled annoyance crossing Lord Bolton's face for a moment before he quietly answered his son. "It seems your lady mother was feeling too weak to attend, so she has resigned herself to being feed by hand like the invalid she is."

Domeric's face twisted into scowl at that and for a moment it looked as though he were about to rise from his chair, however he seemed to settle into a steady glare at his father who returned it quite comfortably .The two of them were locked in a moment of tense silence before Domeric eventually looked down at his food sullenly.

_This is all a game to him_ he suddenly realized, _while most men would play Cyvasse, Bolton likes to play with people._

"It's as I always tell her" he went on. "She needs to be leeched to get all the bad blood out." his voice still remained that quiet whisper.

Dom looked like he was about to say something when suddenly a high pitched scream echoed out from within the castle, causing all three men to look around in alarm. After a second scream came the three men where off in the direction of the sound.

"It's coming from mother's room!" shouted Domeric as he broke into a sprint up towards the upper chambers and Will hurried to keep up with him.

The first thing Will saw as he pushed open the chamber door was blood. A screaming handmaiden was sitting on the floor with blood smeared all across her skirts, and remnants of soup pooling in a puddle beside her. The handmaiden herself didn't seem to be injured at all as Will went over to try and calm her, yet all he got was choking sobs, however it wasn't until his eyes trailed up towards the bed that he finally understood what was going on.

"MOTHER!" cried Domeric as he ran over to the bloody figure lying inert on the bed.

Bethany Bolton lay back on her pillow, starring off with cold, unseeing eyes that now so eerily matched her husband's. Without getting to close Will could see that most of the blood had come from her mouth and down her nightgown and onto the bed.

"Please wake up, please, please, please." cried Domeric as he furiously shook her.

His frantic attempts at rousing his mother continued in vain for some time until Will finally steeled himself and tried to gently pry his sobbing friend away, carefully holding onto him as he lead him from the room, pausing ever so slightly to see Lord Roose standing over the body, his face impassive yet for a moment Will almost imagined that he could see a slight frown on his face.

Yet as he lead Domeric out into the hall the thing that struck him most was the smell hanging about, that same smell of pig shit from earlier….


	13. Our Blades are Sharp

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thanks again to all who reviewed, followed and favorited the story, you guys keep me going!**

**Warning: Gore, language. **

Lord Bolton had been alone with the Maester as he examined the body for over an hour, all the while Will and Domeric were barred out forcing them to pace around in the hallway like naughty children. Domeric had spoken little in the hours since the discovery of his mother and Will was beginning to worry; his friend had taken on a cold blank expression that very much reminded Will of Roose.

After walking what felt like his four hundredth pace of the hallway Will was suddenly jolted from his musings by the sound of the chamber door opening and lord Bolton leading the Maester out into the hallway, standing right behind him as the old man approached Will and Domeric.

"I-I have concluded that lady Bolton's death was the result of a sudden fever." said the Maester hesitantly, before looking back at Roose for confirmation.

"You mean to tell me that a fever caused that bloody mess?!" shouted Will indignantly.

"I eh…well perhaps it had already become a chest infection and-" he started before being cut off by a glare from Lord Bolton.

"My wife has just died Ser Willam, my son's mother. You are a guest in the Dreadfort and I will not suffer you making any trouble during this time. This is a private matter and I will handle it _privately_." hissed the leech lord before boring his eerie eyes into Will's own silver ones.

After a moment the lord of the Dreadfort began speaking again. "Preparations are already being made for my lady wife's funeral, I am sure Domeric would be…glad to have your presence, and then after that I think it would be best if you took your leave from here for the mourning process."

Will looked over at Domeric for support only to find his friend staring off with a distant look in his eyes. It seemed as though the warmth and life he once possessed had died with his mother. _Gods he's not taking this well_ thought Will sadly.

Finally Will gave them all a slight nod and reassuringly squeezed Domeric's shoulder before turning to leave in a hurry, his thoughts swirling about as he returned to his temporary chambers. _I will find out the cause of all _this_ madness, whether Roose Bolton likes it or not…_

The funeral ceremony had been a small affair, with only Lord Bolton, Domeric, a few minor vassals and Will in attendance as Bethany Bolton was carried off to the Bolton family crypts somewhere deep in the Dreadfort away from prying eyes. While Roose had remained impassive the entire time Domeric had shed more than a few tears as he silently watched her casket being carried off. Will stood firm beside him with his hand pressed firmly on his friend's shoulder.

Later on after they had been dismissed back to their chambers Domeric suddenly collapsed within the confines of his study, his body wracked with sobs as Will tried to sooth his friend with whatever words of comfort he could think of.

"Gods, why did they take her Will? Why? She was a good person, kind, gentle…..what have I done to make the Gods want to punish me so?" he choked out from his desk, his face buried in his hands as his whole body shook with pain.

"Listen to me Dom, you did nothing wrong and you aren't being punished." said Will firmly as he gave his friend's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I swear I'll find the man who did this, by the Seven Gods of the south and all the Old Gods beyond counting I swear I will find this man and exact justice."

Domeric nodded wearily and Will helped him over to his bed and went to fetch the Maester to give him something to help him rest. After that Will set out around the Dreadfort to look for anyone who may have had an idea what lady Bolton was doing in her final hours after Will last saw her. _Handmaidens will be the first ones to know Lady Bethany's comings and goings…_

Will knew he couldn't just _ask_ Roose Bolton about the identities of his wife's handmaidens so he decided he would go the indirect route and ask the men who were fucking said women. Walking out into the armory that evening he noticed several guards were standing about exchanging gossip-and wine.

"I wonder what Lord Bolton would say if he saw you lot slacking off?" he said smoothly as he approached the men, an easy smile plastered over his face.

The men instantly straightened up and stood at attention and began muttering apologies and begged he not tell Roose, much to Will's amusement as he laughed to himself and playfully smacked a couple of the guards on the shoulders. "Oh lighten up you lot, it was merely a joke." He said and the men seemed visibly relieved. "But while we're here we might as well indulge ourselves, anyone care for some arbor gold?" he asked, holding out a skin of wine.

Hesitantly a one man took the offered Wine and had a mouthful before grinning like an idiot. _Poor sods probably never had wine as good as this_ mused Will as he they begun passing it about while he leaned against a wall lazily.

"You're most generous milord." said one particularly ape-like guard as he smiled at Will with a mouth full of rotten teeth.

"Ah well, since the lady's passing all the other lot have been too glum to partake, but I see you fine fellows know how to drink." said Will cheerfully.

"Aye there's not a man in the seven kingdoms who can drink more than Thorgrin!" declared a small hairy man with crossed eyes.

"Is that so? Well I'd like to take that bet. What do you say? Five silver stags to whoever can drink the most?"

The mention of coin had the man's eyes alright and he nodded vigorously while all the other men laughed and cheered to see some entertainment. Will smiled and ventured with the men back to the main servants quarters and sat himself down on a large wooden table with the other man, Thorgrin, sitting opposite as the others brought out a large keg of ale with several horns to drink with.

After the first hour and what felt like his twentieth horn of ale Will's opponent finally collapsed under his own weight and swiftly passed out on the floor as Will was hoisted up by the others and declared the victor.

"Ya did well milord! Finally got old Thorgrin to shut up!" laughed the man with rotten teeth, his own breath smelling heavily of ale.

"You know what I need now? A good woman." Grinned Will as he was met with by a barrage of laughter.

"Aye that's always a good way to celebrate! I know one or two goodin's around here." boasted the man as he took another mouthful of ale.

"Well there's a few of lady Bolton's handmaidens I sort of had an eye on….you wouldn't happen to know where they take lodgings would you?" asked Will slyly, a gleam of mischief in his silver eyes.

The other man let out a bark of laughter and lightly punched Will on the shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially and whispered as if Roose Bolton himself was standing behind him. "Well milord, most of 'em sleep over in the eastern side of the castle, a few rooms down from where the lady used to sleep. Close enough to come when she needed, but distant enough so that they wouldn't hear when Lord Bolton…..did his duty." He said with a knowing look and a perverse grin.

A little while later Will managed to sneak off and head over towards the eastern side of the castle and tried to keep his movements quiet in the darkness so as to not awaken any of the Dreadfort's other inhabitants. Despite drinking more than his fair share of ale Will was only feeling a slight buzz rather than full inebriation. _If you've survived drinking with GreatJon Umber then you can drink your way out of most situations_ thought Will as he giggled to himself rather loudly before clasping a hand over his mouth. _Ok maybe I am a little drunk…_

After quietly sneaking up the hallway past Lady Bethany's room he kept walking until he finally found a chamber that was, as the drunken guard had said, not that far from the Bolton bed chamber. Standing at the door for a moment to compose himself, Will knocked on the chamber door firmly but not so loud that it would echo from the hall. After a moment sounds of life stirred from behind the door and he was greeted by one of lady Bethany's handmaidens, a young girl not much older than Will with frizzy red hair and a face full of freckles, clasping herself firmly in a nightgown and looking at Will with a bizarre sense of defeat and shame. _Does she expect me to bed her? Is that what guests of House Bolton are treated to? The womenfolk?_

"M-my lord," she stammered, the fear of rape rousing her from whatever hold sleep may still have had on her. "It is r-rather late my lord." She said weakly.

"Yes I must apologize about the lateness of the hour but there are questions I need answered." He said sternly, yet also kept his voice soft so as to not frighten the poor girl anymore. "You were one of Lady Bethany's handmaidens were you not?"

"Y-Yes my lord, I've served Lady Bolton for over five years." She said, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Good. Now what can you tell me about yesterday? What did your Lady do after me and lord Domeric left her side?"

"We…we escorted her back to her chambers to rest for a while and then Lord Roose briefly came in spoke with my lady, and then he left to prepare for supper."

"What did they discuss?" Will's brows furrowed ever so slightly.

The handmaiden shook her head timidly and kept her eyes locked on the floor. "It is not my place to speak of such things about my liege lord."

A slight growl escaped Will's throat and he leaned forward threateningly until he was inches away from the handmaiden's face. "Need I remind you that I am a Stark of Winterfell and that my brother is liege of the entire North?" He whispered harshly.

The girl's bottom lip began trembling and tears begun to fill her eyes as she forced herself to look at him. "They just spoke about supper; my lady wasn't feeling well so she decided to stay abed."

Will nodded a little at that but kept pressing. "What did she do after that? Did anyone else come visit her?" he almost barked at her, watching as she flinched. _I can feel guilty later; right now I need answers…_

"N-no one, after Lord Roose left we helped my lady into her nightgown and got her ready for bed… the next time anyone went in her chambers was when Alyane brought in her supper."

Will looked down at her skeptically, his silver eyes locked on her brown ones. "And you're telling me in that time no one, not a single soul, entered your lady's chambers before she was discovered?"

The girl hesitated for a moment and tried to look away but Will ever so slightly squeezed tighter on her arm until he knew it would bruise forcing her to look at him. "Bella!" she gasped "Bella went in afterwards to bring my lady some dream wine like she always does every night."

"Where can I find this Bella?" he said harshly, more of a demand than a question.

"She often sneaks out at night to visit the library!" she choked out.

Will nodded in approval and relinquished his grasp on the girl and went to leave before pausing momentarily as he looked down at the crumpled, sobbing figure on the ground. He wanted to comfort the poor girl but quickly banished the thought from his mind; he had other matters to settle.

Will moved swiftly through the keep, almost breaking into a sprint driven on by the thought of justice and revenge. His mind swirled with questions and the remnants of the ale he had consumed leaving the young Stark in a near hyperactive state. _One way to spice up the night…_

Storming into the library with less grace than he had hoped, Will instantly scanned around the darkened room for any signs of life, yet he could see nothing. The large windows let in long beams of moonlight through the darkness yet everything seemed in place and undisturbed by life as the young Stark crept forward, trying to remain hidden within the large shadows stretching across the room.

Will quietly walked down the long passages of bookshelves trying to attune his eyes to the darkness without bumping into one of the mighty shelves and sending ancient tomes everywhere. _If only I was a wolf, then I'd be laughing right about now _he mused as he felt his way along the books and passage.

Suddenly he was shaken from his thoughts by a slight whimper coming from ahead; it was a soft sound, barely audible if not for the library's otherwise looming silence and it was coming from the very back of the library.

As he pressed onwards the sound became clearer, the whimpering was pronounced as though whatever was making the sound was being hurt by some other force, not unlike that of an injured animal. _Or a frightened woman _thought Will darkly.

When he finally did come closer he saw a young girl with golden hair which shone in the moonlight; her blouse was slightly torn and she had a large bruise on her cheek. When her eyes fell on Will's emerging figure she shrieked in terror and jumped back until the young Stark held up his hands in peace. With a wary gaze the woman ever so slowly came out into the light, and Will was shocked to discover that had had met the girl before.

"I know you. You're one of Lady Bolton's handmaidens. You had a bloody lip the day I arrived." He said in a gentle tone, trying to appear as non-threatening as he could.

"You were Lord Domeric's friend, the knight from House Stark." She whispered.

"Aye, I'm a knight and I'm sorry I frightened you so, but I need to ask you some questions about your mistress lady Bolton." He said as leaned a little closer, his hands still held up where she could see them.

She looked as though she wanted to turn and leave so Will took a step back. "You're Bella aren't you?" he asked softly watching as she hesitantly nodded. "My name's Will, and Bella I swear to you on my word as a knight and on my honor as a Stark, I mean you no harm."

Her blue eyes still seemed locked on Will's form warily but some of the tension in her body disappeared when he mentioned his House. Taking her presence as an indication to go on he questioned her once again. "I have it on good authority that you often brought Lady Bolton dream wine of an evening, is that correct my lady?"

"Lady Bethany often had…nightmares, the Maester said we were allowed to give her a cup full every night as she went to bed." She explained.

"And you gave her a cup on the night that she died, only this particular cup didn't have dream wine did it?"

A look of terror crossed Bella's face and trails of tears rolled town her slightly bruised cheeks, "I didn't know it was poison! Lady Bethany was so kind to me but…. he-he said that he would skin me if I didn't help!" she choked out.

"Who? Who threatened you?" he half- asked, half-demanded. But before he could get an answer a horrible smell drifted up into Will's face and with a pang of realization he looked down at Bella's torn blouse and bruised cheek. _He's still here…_

Suddenly he felt a hot flash of pain in his side and felt something wet spreading across his tunic, with a jolt he instantly fell back as a skulking figure emerged from the shadows, with messy mud-stained black hair and ragged clothes that hung loose from his body, a large and very bloody knife in his hand.

"What the FUCK did I tell you about talking to people!?" shouted the man in a nasally voice as he struck Bella with a fierce back hand. "I'll take the skin of your hands for that you stupid cunt!"

Will let out a groan of agony as he felt the bloody spot on his side begin to spread out across his chest and down onto the floor _Get up, Get up, GET UP!_ he screamed to himself as he watched the stinking wretch begin to beat Bella. _Fucking idiot…. shouldn't have drunk so much ale…._ He silently chastised himself. _You get up and you choke the life out of that gods damned foul smelling bastard!_

Ignoring the sharp pains in his side Will leapt up at the man with a roar and grabbed hold of his knife hand, desperately trying to knock it free of his stinking grip. As he tried to stop the man's flailing blade Will felt his opponent suddenly lean close and bite at the young Stark's neck causing the younger man to let out a deep scream whilst still beating the man's wrist against a library shelve again and again until finally he dropped the blade and Will began beating down on the man's face until he felt a sickening crunch of the bastards nose breaking, it was music to Will's ears as he continued his assault causing the man to release his bite.

Will, now having cornered his opponent into the wooden shelve, begun to throttle the man with all his strength, watching as the man's face slowly started turning blue. But before he could continue he felt an agonizing sharpness in his wound as his attacker started squeezing at it ferociously until Will almost fainted in pain and the other man kicked him away while he searched around for the knife.

Trying to regain his strength despite himself Will managed to pull himself up against one of the reading tables. His blood was flowing freely from his abdomen now as he weakly stood as the stinking man rose from the ground with his knife now back in his hands, a savage grin spreading across his dirty features.

Looking around Will suddenly picked up a candle stick and used it strike one of the library windows sending bits of glass everywhere. Not taking his eyes off his opponent Will bent down, agonizingly and picked up a large shard of glass, keeping it in hand as he and his enemy circled each other like two lions ready to pounce.

"So we'll have ourselves a little knife dance will we? I'm sure my master will enjoy having a cloak made from genuine Stark lordling." giggled the man as blood began to bubble at his injured nose.

"Come try me." Said Will as he kept his eyes locked on the madman's own.

And with that they leapt at each other, blades slashing and lunging about while both men danced and dodged away from each other's assaults with the stinking wretch hacking away madly whilst Will tried his best to duck away and slice at the man's belly.

Seeing an opportunity the young Stark lunged forward and slashed across the man's chest and stomach, trying desperate to gut the stinking creature. His efforts however were in vain and his opponent managed to move back just in time, only leaving a slash instead of outright disemboweling him, and as Will quickly tried to find his footing the man lunged forward and managed to bury his blade within Will's shoulder, pushing him back onto the ground as the stinking man pushed his weight down as he twisted the blade around in Will's shoulder causing the young Stark to let out a shout of agony.

"Mayhaps I'll cut ye pretty face off first? Wear it as a mask when I fuck that stupid bitch eh? Bet you'd like that wouldn't you, highborn cunt." whispered the man as he pressed down further, almost touching the bone as Will writhed in agony.

Desperately reaching around him, Will suddenly grasped another shard of glass and without hesitation plunged the makeshift blade deep into the stinking man's groin causing him to crumple in pain long enough for Will to shove him off.

As his attacker rolled around on the floor desperately grasping at his bloody genitals Will sat up and, after taking a deep breath, pulled the blade from his shoulder in an effort so painful that it brought tears to his eyes.

Hobbling over towards the screaming figure on the floor Will raised the knife, ready to plunge down into the stinking creature's heart when suddenly the doors of the library burst open and several guards rushed in, accompanied by a tearful Bella and both Domeric and his father, each with a comical look of surprise on their pale faces.

It was Domeric who spoke first. "Gods be good Will what happened!"

Giving his friend a haggard look as he felt blood rushing down his face he gestured to his attacker who was still groaning on the floor. "This….this man….he had…Lady Bethany poisoned." He croaked out, his throat feeling as though he spent a day riding through the deserts of Dorne.

To emphasize his point he grabbed the injured man by his greasy hair and dragged him forward to the others, holding the blade to his throat. "TELL THEM!" he screamed his voice half giving out from the effort.

Instead the man looked over to Lord Roose expectantly "Please milord! I was only doing it 'cause he told me to! You know how he is, he-"

"Silence traitor, I shall have you taken to the rooms underneath the Dreadfort for this!" hissed Lord Bolton, in the loudest voice Will had ever heard from the man.

"No! No! I'm not going down there! Please don't send me down there!" pleaded the man only to be met with a cold stare from Roose. In desperation the man reached forward and grabbed Will's hand, forcing the blade forward into his own stinking chest while the young Stark gasped in horror and nausea.

"A madman." Stated Bolton as he eyed the twitching body as blood began to pool around it.

"You knew him?" asked Domeric, almost shouting in his father's face.

"Yes. His name was Heke but we all called him Reek because of the damned smell, he used to be a servant of mine while you were off being fostered in the Vale."

"But…..why would he want….to kill lady Bethany? What….possible ….reason could ….the man have for that?" asked Will, the pain and exhaustion evident on his face and a deep dizziness coming over him.

"Reek has some form of ailment, he stank no matter how many baths he took or as clean as tried to be." explained Roose, his expression and tone never once changing. "We used to keep him in with the pigs until one day he stole my wife's perfumes to bathe himself in, for that I had him flogged and….sent away, he must have felt embittered against my lady wife for this."

Domeric suddenly began stomping on the body muttering a number of curses as he did while the others watched on impassively, waiting for the young heir of the Dreadfort to get it out of his system. When he did finally stop he looked over towards Bella with an angry intent in his eyes until Will put a bloody hand on his shoulder. "Leave her…be…please Dom….that monster …made…her"

Domeric turned around to answer him back with some retort but stopped midstream as Will suddenly lost all feeling in his legs and suddenly collapsed down onto the stone floor as darkness closed in around him….


	14. Awake

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Thanks again all you lovely people who reviewed, favorited and followed the story :)**

_He could see Lyanna up ahead, a large cloak wrapped about her lean figure as she hurried out the camp into the Godswood. He quickly paced after her, though for some reason it felt as if he was running up some steep hill and he could not catch her. _

_When he finally saw her again she was beyond, over by a large oak tree talking with a hooded figure. He quietly climbed up a nearby tree and leaned out on a branch to listen in to their conversation._

_"Don't worry; I have disposed of the armor. No one will be able to connect the Knight of the laughing tree to you. You should be safe from my father." Came a soft masculine voice from within the hood._

_"I am still not sure why you're helping me with this your grace…" said his sister in an unusually serious tone._

_"I am doing this because someone of your bravery deserves to be rewarded, not punished." replied the hooded man, sounding oddly sad._

_Will's eyes widened with surprise when he saw his sister lean forward and passionately kiss the hooded figure, the two staying together for several moments before the man broke off and gave a deep bow, the hood blowing back and revealing his long silver hair as he did. "Until we meet again my lady." With that the silver man departed from the woods, leaving Lyanna alone with her thoughts._

_Will suddenly heard a great crack rip through the air and he felt the branch give way beneath him, sending him tumbling down to the floor below, a slight groan escaping his lips as he absentmindedly rubbed his bruised knee. When he looked up he saw his sister staring down at him with a look of surprise._

_"Will?" _

Will awoke as a gentle ray of warm light suddenly traveled over his face from some obtruding window, his throat felt parched and sore from disuse and he licked at his dry, cracked lips in an effort to soothe their ache. His left arm and shoulder were thoroughly bandaged up and he tried ever so softly to move it, only to be met with a sting of pain. Slowly opening his eyes he saw a blurry figure sitting across from him face down in a book. It took him a moment to wipe away the sleep from his eyes with his one good hand before he realized that it was Domeric sitting beside him, brows furrowed as he tried to decipher some ancient tale. Looking around he noticed that he was in the guest chambers of the Dreadfort.

Suddenly Domeric looked up and smiled at Will with a relieved look. "Well, look who's finally come around. You gave us all a scare for a while my friend."

"How….how long was I out?" he croaked in a raspy voice.

"Two days. My father actually managed to look anxious for once in his life, no doubt the thought of having a dead Stark in his home made him feel uneasy." laughed Domeric, as he carefully placed his book over on a desk.

"What's the damage?" he asked gesturing to his bandaged shoulder.

"Flesh wounds mostly, what really had the Maester worrying though was the amount of blood you had lost, nearly two quarts if the man is to be believed…..thank the gods that murderer Reek is burning in the deepest of the seven hells, trying to get rid of me and mother so that my father would have no heirs, all out of spite… I only wish his death had been slower." a dark look crossing the young Bolton's face.

"What…..what happened to the girl, Bella?" asked Will hesitantly.

Domeric scowled a little at the question and spoke with a strong sense of distaste in his voice. "Father had her possessions taken and sent her off on her way, it's too good for her if you ask me. "

"She was a victim of Reek's treachery as well Dom."

Domeric waved the conversation away and rose from his seat and collected his old book. "I'll send the Maester in shall I?" he asked.

Will nodded in reply and let himself fall back against his pillow and tried to rest his eyes as he heard Dom exit the room, leaving Will to his musings. He thought back to what Reek was blabbering on about, the talk of giving Will's flayed skin to someone as a gift, he tried to remember what else the madman had said but found himself unable to focus.

The Maester arrived later that day and inspected Will's shoulder and other cuts and made sure that no infection had set in and that he still had sensations in his left arm, he pulled two vials of some strange smelling ointment that he said must be rubbed into his wounds twice a day for another few weeks and told him he would still need at least another two days in bed to fully recover his strength for the ride back to Winterfell. Will tried to protest but the old man wouldn't have it and stayed resolute, so for the next two days Will remained a shut in, only ever leaving his chambers to sup with Domeric.

Lord Roose had been notably absent during the majority of Will's time awake since the attack and the young Stark had thought, and hoped, that perhaps he was away on some errand. It was not to be however as the Lord of the Dreadfort did indeed come pay Will a visit to the guest chambers on Will's final day just as he was readying his things for his return home, his arm no longer in a sling.

"Ah Ser Willam, it is good to see you up and about. I do hope your injuries aren't troubling you too much are they?" asked the leech lord in the horrible whisper that was his voice.

"I am feeling much better, thank you my lord. Your Maester has been most helpful in the matter."

Bolton nodded once absently before moving his pallid eyes over to Will "As you may well know I am a…private man Ser Willam, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep this delicate matter to yourself for a while. I have already sent word to Lord Eddard about your…injuries."

_Though only after you knew I would live I'm sure, had I died no doubt my corpse would turn up in a ditch somewhere _Will wanted to say, but instead he merely nodded his head and kept to pleasantries. "I'll keep the matter in the strictest confidence my lord, and of course be sure to tell my brother of the wonderful hospitality I was treated to while here."

Bolton nodded in agreement obviously pleased with that result and bid Will farewell as he left the chamber.

As he said his goodbyes to all in the castle and had his horse brought to him, Dom walked over and embraced Will in a fierce hug, causing the Young Stark to wince ever so slightly as he felt his shoulder get pressed on.

"Thank you Will, for all you've done…I can't possibly repay you for this, you're the truest friend I have." said Domeric as he shook Will's outstretched hand.

"You'd do the same for me. Farewell Dom."

And with that he mounted his steed and, after giving Domeric a nod, rode out along the Kingsroad back to Winterfell.

When he finally made his way through the gates of Winterfell a few days later, he found that only young Robb and Theon Greyjoy came to greet him in the courtyard, his nephew practically bouncing up and down at the sight of his uncle, whilst Greyjoy simply stared at him.

"Lad I swear if you keep growing this much every time I leave, you may even look down on Hodor one day!" said Will as he ruffled the boy's auburn locks.

Looking over to the older boy standing by Robb's side Will extended his hand in greetings. "I don't believe you and I have been properly introduced yet. I'm Willam Stark." He said, trying to put as much cheer and good spirit in his voice as he could.

The boy eyed him curiously before hesitantly taking Will's hand. "I am Theon of House Greyjoy my lord."

_Yes I know that, I burnt half of your Fathers men to death and murdered your older brother in cold blood _thought Will sadly, but kept an easy smile on his face as looked at the boy. "Good to have met you." He lied.

For a moment there was a sort of tense silence between them until finally he turned to Robb and asked him where his parents were. The boy shrugged and said that they were probably speaking with Maester Luwin as they apparently had been doing for the last three days.

"Well I suppose I best go find them then." Sighed Will as he marched off through the castle.

His search didn't take long however as he followed Robb's advice and headed straight for the Maester's chambers only to find hushed voices speaking behind the door. _Oh well, better to catch them unawares_ he thought with a laugh as he burst through the door with a shout, causing Cat a fright as she fell back into Ned's arms while Maester Luwin stood by looking extremely flustered. Will however just laughed heartily at their expressions.

"Don't _do_ that!" shouted Cat as she quickly stormed over to Will and gave him a sharp slap to the face causing the young Stark to stare at her shock as she quickly exited her chambers, while Maester Luwin race after her leaving the two brothers alone.

"What in on earth was all that about?" complained Will as he rubbed his now red cheek.

Ned let out a deep sigh and walked over to inspect his little brother's face as well as making note of all his new scars he had acquired from Reek. "Sorry for all that Pup, but it seems that Cat is…..with child again, she hasn't really been feeling herself these last few days."

Will started to make some smart retort until he finally let his brother's words sink in and he cut himself off and stared at Ned in surprise for a moment, a gleam of happiness in his big brother's usually icy eyes. For ages they stood in silence until Will suddenly let out a bark of laughter, the mishap with Cat completely forgotten as he gave his brother a congratulatory slap on the back, a wide grin on his face. "You old dog! Another member of the pack ey?" he practically shouted as Ned let a small smile creep along his face.

"You could say that." laughed Ned, trying his best to remain modest about his happiness. Looking down at how his little brother sluggishly moved his left arm about, he gave Will a concerned look. "The injuries that you suffered at the Dreadfort, they're not too serious I take it?"

"Just a few scratches here and there….you should see the other man! I made sure to give as good as I got." snorted Will as he surveyed the Maester's quarters. "Have ah… any more letters from Chider Hall arrived?" he asked mildly, trying to hide his concern. _I haven't replied in over three weeks, Leonette could be worried…_

"Aye, I think we have one or two." Said Eddard, trying to restrain a laugh "But you don't have to worry, I had Maester Luwin put them in your study, unopened."

Will nodded his thanks and left for his rooms , practically skipping the entire way until he hurried through the door and marched straight into his study where, just as Ned had told him, lay a letter bearing the sigil of House Fossoway. He trembled slightly as he opened it and once again savored the feeling of the warm paper that his beloved had written on, once again imagining her slight fingers swiftly moving across the parchment.

As he read through Leonette's pained reaction to Lynesse and Jorah's recent actions and how she had desperately tried to reach out to her willful friend only to receive no reply at all, Will found himself overcome with a deep sense of frustration. _I should have been there…. I should be there now, holding her in my arms, breathing in the beautiful scent of her honey locks. _That's when he decided once and for all that he would go to the Tourney of Storm's End and he would win Leonette Fossoway's hand in marriage._ The entire seven bloody kingdoms can bear witness as I crown her as my Queen of love and beauty…_


	15. When the Storm Ends

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, work was murder! But i'd like to once again give a big thanks to all who Reviewed, followed and favorited the story :D**

The Stormlands certainly lived up to their name.

Despite it being the long summer and further south than any of them had travelled, Will and his companions hadn't seen the sun at all in the entire four days they had spent traveling through the Baratheon lands. Instead they had been met with ominous clouds that constantly threatened rain and gusts of wind so powerful that they could uproot and topple any tree that was weak or dying, sending debris all about the countryside. Will even found that during the toughest winds he would have to wear cloth over his face to keep his eyes protected from the all the dust blowing about.

Despite the weather the Young Stark seemed almost giddy with excitement about the upcoming tourney; of all the glory he would achieve, of the hand of the woman he would win. In the ten months since he had told Leonette of Jorah and Lynesse's betrayal their letters had become even more of a frequent occurrence, with Will writing at least two letters per week trying to remain as close to her as the distance would allow. None of his family had said anything about it as they were all too preoccupied with the newest addition to Winterfell; little Brandon.

Much like Robb his newest nephew had inherited the Tully coloring, with auburn hair and blue eyes. Yet despite his outward appearance there was something very Stark about the babe, the way he would look at things with a calm sense of curiosity and his general docile nature. The boy would grow into a fine man, Will was sure of it.

Will was stirred from his musings by a particularly strong gust of wind hitting him right in the face sending his teeth chattering in his head. This was the final straw that made him give voice to his complaints. "Gods, how mad are these Baratheons to live in a land of constant storm?"

"No madder than choosing to live in a land of constant ice and snow." Chimed in Domeric from his horse.

"You have me there." Laughed Will, "But still, it's a wonder how the Stormlords can tolerate all this extreme weather, the damage sustained by the debris must be immense."

"Well most of the castles here were built to last, why it's even said that your ancestor Bran the Builder helped create Storms End with his skill and magic." replied Domeric in that 'know it all' tone of his.

Will shook his head in amusement and remained silent for a time as he and his companions rode onwards through the dismal weather. Matters were made all the worse due to the fact that they were riding with a larger group of guards which slowed their riding time quite a bit. Before leaving Winterfell, Will had made sure to bring a small fortune along with him; several chests full of gold dragons and silver stags along with the few precious jewels that Will had a claim to as the fourth son, quite small in comparison to what Ned and his children had inherited but still enough to make a considerable wedding dowry for Leonette's father, who was no doubt going to be attending the Tourney with half the other Reach lords. Will was confident that once he had beaten all other knights and lords in the tourney that he would be able to impress upon Lord Fossoway how worthy he was to wed his daughter, the dowry and Stark name would only sweeten the deal.

Whilst digging about for valuables to offer he came upon something that he had not set eyes on for some time; his father's silver Direwolf ring. It wasn't much; just a silver ring that's top was forged into the shape of a snarling wolf's head, with small rubies incrusted as eyes. Will had often wondered why his father left one of his most prized possessions with his youngest son, as he himself had been gifted the ring by Will's grandfather Lord Edwyle. _Surely such a jewel should belong to the lord of Winterfell, not the fourth son who would inherit nothing _he mused to himself, but Will knew it would do no good trying to figure out his father's reasons_; the man had been as distant in life as he was in death_ thought Will sadly as he rode onwards.

After three days of riding the companions finally came upon an Inn to settle for the night; The Startled Stag, as it was called. However entering the Inn was itself a burden as it seemed that the patronage was full of rich celebratory guests.

"I'm terribly sorry milord but I really don't have the room to host all of you." Muttered the withered old man as Will and Domeric stood at the entrance of said Inn.

Suddenly a familiar voice called out through the rabble of the Inn. "Is that Willam bloody Stark?"

And with that the owner of the voice hurried forward, it was none other than Renly Baratheon the Lord of Storm's end himself, standing proud and strong like a younger version of Robert. With a smile the young Baratheon lord reached over and pulled Will into a friendly hug before laughing heartily.

"How long has it been Stark? Six years?" asked Renly as he swatted at Will's shoulder good naturedly.

"I would have come to visit more often but, you know how it is; cities to protect, Greyjoys to kill." said Will smoothly.

Renly nodded, still laughing before looking over at Will's companions. "I take it you've come for the tourney?" seeing Will nod in affirmation Renly looked over towards the Inn keeper with disapproval plastered over his face. "Now we can't have these men sleeping out in the cold now can we? I'm sure you can find room for Ser Willam and his companions."

The Innkeeper looked about before giving a defeated sigh. "I suppose we could fit in these few, but I'm afraid that their guards will have to sleep out the back by the stables."

"That's perfectly fine, as long as you provide them with some supper in the morning." Replied Will, to which the old man merely grunted.

"Excellent!" declared Renly as he led the Northmen inside the lively inn.

Once they got themselves settled inside and introductions were made, Renly and Will set about catching up on old times. The two had met once shortly after Robert's Rebellion when Ned came down with Catelyn to visit the newly crowned King Robert for Lord Stannis' wedding. Will had tagged along and had been introduced to Robert's youngest brother, and whilst Renly was more _fanciful _than Will, the two got on rather well during the visit. Now they once again chatted about what they had done since their last meeting, Renly had since become Lord of Storm's end, though he admitted he spent more time in Kings Landing than anywhere.

"Robert tells me you've become quite a tourney knight, any plans to compete at my humble abode?" he asked evenly.

"Aye, hopefully I can test my mettle against all of these ferocious Storm Lords."

Renly once again laughed at that, however this time there was an underlining hint of mockery. "It's the Reach Lords you should worry about; I dare say Ser Loras Tyrell is the favorite to win this year."

The name sounded oddly familiar to Will and he scrunched his face up as the gears of mind slowly begun to work. "Ser Loras, he was a squire of yours wasn't he? The Knight of Flowers I think they call him."

Renly nodded once and had an almost nervousness about him as he spoke. "Y-yes he was quite skilled; he is a good….friend."

_Ah so that's how it is, taken him on as bedmates have you Renly?_ Thought Will with a knowing smile. Renly saw the look on Will's face and quickly changed topics. They sat together drinking and exchanging gossip for most of the night until both men were feeling heavily inebriated, and Renly bid Will goodnight whilst the young Stark sat up and briefly mingled with some of the others in Renly's entourage before setting off for bed as well.

The next day Will and his companions joined Renly in breaking their fast and it was decided that they would all travel together back to Storm's End and await the other lords. Renly even decided that when they joined up with the Tyrell host that they would throw a great feast to commemorate the beginning of the tourney, Will had thought this slightly frivolous but decided to say nothing and indulge the young Lord of Storm's end.

Once they set out it took them three more days of slow riding to finally arrive at the mythic keep of Storm's End. It was a colossal structure, one that easily dwarfed Winterfell. Even from a distance Will could still tell just how grand the castle truly was, with its gigantic outer walls so smooth and curving that it looked as if it were all one rock instead of many thousands of stones, but what really caught the eye was the center of the castle itself with its singular drum tower that was crowned with many battlements, making the whole thing look like one great fist held up defiantly towards the raging Storms above. Will had never seen a castle that so utterly encapsulates the words of its liege. _Ours is the Fury…_

When they entered the monstrous keep Will was surprised to discover that the drum tower contained the granary, barracks, armory, feast hall and lord's chambers all at once. Renly showed them all to their rooms and told Will that he had best prepare himself for a feast as he had word that the Tyrells weren't far and that he expected them to arrive by nightfall.

Will was quick to take Renly's advice and changed himself out of his riding clothes into something more formal. Just as Renly had predicted the Tyrell host arrived exactly as the sun descended beyond the horizon and out of sight, and as the various lords of the Reach entered in through the gates Will joined Renly in welcoming them. First came the Tyrell siblings, and Ser Loras was of course the first one off his horse and rushing over to greet Lord Renly. Even Will had to admit he was a comely fellow with his long curly brown hair and golden eyes and an easy smile. Renly seemed to remember his curtsies and begun the introductions.

"Will, this Ser Loras Tyrell of Highgarden. Loras, this is Ser Willam Stark of Winterfell."

Will shook the younger man's outstretched hand. "Well met Ser Loras." To which the younger knight merely smiled in response.

Next came the other Tyrell brother, this one was a taller, bearded version of Ser Loras with a bigger and broader build than the slender Knight of Flowers. Renly was quick to introduce this one as well. "This is his brother, Lord Garlan."

Garlan smiled as he took Will's extended hand. "I've heard a great many things about you Ser Willam." He said in kind tone.

"All good things I hope." Replied Will with a laugh.

However before he could respond he was cut off by the presence of a lovely young woman with the same curly brown Tyrell hair that matched her eyes, there was no doubt this was Lady Margaery Tyrell. "I do hope you all haven't forgotten about me." chided Margaery in her lyrical voice.

"Oh we could never forget about you my dear." said Renly smoothly. "Ser Willam, this is Lady Margaery."

Margaery gave a perfect curtsy whilst Will made sure to bow low. "My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you." Margaery chuckled ever so softly and a slight blush crept along her cheeks.

After the Tyrells there came a few more minor lords of the Reach, lords Oakheart, Ashford and Varner as well as a dozen other lords of some repute, but it wasn't until Lord and Lady Fossoway of Cider Hall made their appearance that Will really took note. Lord Fossoway was a slender man, with deep lines set across his face that gave him the impression that he was constantly tired. He kept his beard and hair neatly trimmed, its color more grey than red at this point. Lady Fossoway in contrast seemed to have aged gracefully; with her own curly locks still the same honey color with no grey in sight, her face too seemed untouched by age with only the smallest wrinkles adorning the corners of her mouth. But when Leonette herself made an appearance Will felt his heart constrict within his chest, it had been nearly two years since he had last seen her in the flesh and she still looked as radiant as ever. He fought the urge to run over and take her in his arms once more but instead decided that he would speak to her after the feast and try to catch up with her when there were less prying eyes about.

After all the guests had settled in Renly announced a large celebratory feast, which he assured Will would not in any way hamper the Storm's End winter stores. " We'll be fine thank you very much, just don't start telling me that Winter's coming,…when you Stark's start chirping on with your family words you suck all the fun out the atmosphere." He had laughed good-naturedly, yet still the young Stark didn't like all the needless extravagance that Renly insisted upon.

The meal itself was quite lovely, with delicious roasted pork that was served with some form of honey glaze and considering that Will had mostly been eating salted beef for the last few weeks the meal seemed like a gift from the Gods themselves. Will had the honor of being seated to Renly's left while Ser Loras sat at his right, and the two seemed to speak to each other in hushed tones for the most of the night only occasionally breaking off to ask Will his opinion in some small matter or to make some jest on a minor lordling's behalf. Domeric also seemed to be in good spirits as he sat on the other side of Will, lost in deep discussion with Cortnay Penrose the man who serves as castellan of Storm's End whilst Renly is off at King's Landing.

In between his infrequent conversations Will would try and steal a glance over to Leonette as she chatted away with Margaery Tyrell, whatever it was that they were saying they seemed to be having quite a good time of it as Margaery was constantly giggling in amusement while Leonette would throw back her head in laughter and let her beautiful honey locks spill about her shoulders. Will felt oddly content watching her, it was as if the mere sight of her smile was enough to silence all his troubles.

Eventually Leonette left the great hall with a few of her handmaidens and Will felt that perhaps now would be the right time to speak with her. He waited for a moment after she had left and finished off his cup off wine before making his own excuses and bidding the lords a good night. He briefly collected his composure before gently knocking on Leonette's chamber door, hoping that she wouldn't be asleep already. The door opened and he was relieved to see Jeyne standing at the door looking in good spirits and smiling brightly back at Will.

"My lady, it is good to see you again." He said happily as he gently kissed the back of her hand.

"It is good to see you too Ser." giggled Jeyne happily as she gave a slight curtsy.

"Who is it Jeyne?" called Leonette's lovely sing song voice as she approached the door, still wearing her dress from earlier but with her honey gold hair in slight disarray. Her eyes widened briefly when she looked into Will's face before giving him a small smile. "I think that will be all for tonight Jeyne, thank you." She said softly as she dismissed the handmaiden.

Will stepped forward quietly into the chambers and casually looked about, examining the rooms that she was staying in, before slowly bring his gaze back to Leonette. "It seems you neglected to tell me something in your letters."

Leonette suddenly looked panicked and seemed to stumble on her words before Will interrupted her by gently lifting her jaw so that her eyes would meet his. "I meant that you have only grown more beautiful since I last laid eyes on you." He said, eyes burning with mischief as he spoke.

Slowly he leant down and kissed her, softly at first before steadily intensifying, savoring her taste once again. At first Leonette seemed to hesitate but eventually she began to meet him with equal ferocity and soon it was all they could do not to tear at each other's clothes. Eventually they broke apart, yet still resting their heads together as they stared dreamingly into each other's eyes.

"You came all this way." She whispered quietly as she pressed her head against his shoulder whilst Will became intoxicated by the scent of her honey gold locks.

"I promised you a crown of blue roses, and I intend to win you one."

She suddenly looked up at Will with her bright blue eyes, some form of internal conflict going on behind them that he couldn't quite work out. "Will, I…." she trailed off before sighing deeply and resting her head against him once more. "Hold me, please?" He was somewhat confused but happily obliged her none the less and they remained together in each other's embrace for some time.

Some four days later the rest of the tourney competitors began to arrive; Riverlords from the Trident ,Westermen baring the red and gold lion of House Lannister, and even a few members of court from King's Landing. The increase of guests had led Renly to move the host that was occupying his keep out into the tourney grounds, and the gloomy countryside was littered with tents and banners baring all kinds of sigils and colors, and every now and again a strong gust of wind would blow along them all giving the impression of multicolored sea waves.

He made sure that Edrick brought his Wolf's head helm with him for the journey as he wanted to look his absolute best when he crushed the Southron knights, and hopefully adorned in the ancestral colors of his House he could create a big enough impression on lord Fossoway when he asked for Leonette's hand.

Will's first opponent was Ser Donnel Swann, a large man with sandy brown hair and arms thick with knotted muscle. Had the joust taken place a year before, Will would have undoubtedly been a nervous wreck at the very idea of facing such a man, but now the young Stark felt an air of invulnerability about him as he calmly mounted his steed and took his lance and shield from Edrick's shaking hands. He gave his squire a reassuring wink as he closed the snarling mouth of his Wolf helm over his face and looked out through the small slit as Swann readied his horse, the large man appearing even taller once mounted atop his great beast. Will let out a deep breath that he didn't know he was holding and kept his focus entirely on the man, and let everything else wash over him until the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat.

Time seemed locked for a moment and then the two riders were off racing towards each other lances raised and shields at the ready. Just as Swann's lance was about strike Will in the chest he lowered his own and shifted his weight over to his shield and let that take the brunt of the force as the lance head smashed to pieces against the small wooden shield, sending shockwaves up Will's arm and shoulder.

As they turned again Swann quickly took a second lance and charged back for a second barrage, Will took a moment to catch his breath and discarded his fractured shield and rode out with fiery determination, giving an almost animalist howl as he threw his entire weight behind the thrust of his lance, catching Swann straight in the head, throwing the heir of Stonehelm back off his horse with a sickening crunch.

For a moment Will was almost certain that he had killed the big man, but then the downed figure began to stir on the ground and let out a small groan of pain, and the young Stark gave a sigh of relief as the crowd of Storm lords cheered his victory. _Are you watching Leonette? It doesn't matter how many men or lances I have to go through, you and I will be together._

That night Renly once again hosted a great feast in honor of the day's victors, with Will once again seated on Renly's right so that he could witness the grand affair. The meal itself was served with four courses of lamb, pork, venison and even some exotic fish that his sailors had brought back from their travels. There were also a large number of musicians playing all manner of songs; the bear and the maiden fair, The Prince of Dragonflies and even the Rains of Castamere, inspiring many of the lords and ladies to join in on the merriment. Will even caught Domeric in amongst the dancing couples, blushing like a maiden as Myranda Royce lead him about, her hand resting somewhat lower than Domeric was comfortable with.

However as he scanned the dance floor his eyes fell upon Leonette's lovely gold curls and she paced and swayed hand in hand with Garlan Tyrell. Despite his best attempts he found himself suddenly very jealous as he watched Leonette laugh and smile as she moved herself in rhythm with Tyrell.

"They make a beautiful couple don't they?" said Renly, bring Will's thoughts back to reality.

"I suppose. Though I dare say Lady Fossoway is much too comely for Lord Garlan." said Will drolly.

Renly chuckled a little at that and took a mouthful of wine before gesturing out to them again. "Ah well, luckily for Garlan lady Fossoway wasn't too shallow to accept his wedding proposal."

That startled Will. And for a moment he thought he had misheard the Baratheon's words and a confused look crossed his features and a horrible feeling worked its way from his stomach and suddenly all songs and music were forgotten and his attention lay entirely on Renly now who stared at Will with a bemused expression.

"What? You didn't hear? It seems that during their long journey from the Reach Lady Leonette and Garlan became quite infatuated with one another." He paused momentarily to take another sip of his wine before continuing. "So much so that Garlan proposed a match between himself and the fair lady, and Lord Fossoway being the smart man that he is, agreed. I believe they are to be wed at Highgarden in a moons turn."

Will shook his head in disbelief. _The Baratheon has to be lying, or telling one of his stupid japes or, or something!_ Suddenly he looked over at Leonette and Garlan, still dancing, still _laughing_, and he felt a very sick feeling creep around in his stomach. _What reason would Renly have to lie? _countered another voice.

"Are you alright Will?" asked Renly with a hint of concern in his voice.

"W-Why would she continue with the charade of writing to me all this time, why…why would she allow me to come all this way to win her hand if only to marry another?" _oh why did I say that out loud?_

Realization came over Renly's face and his brows furrowed as he gave Will a pitying look. "You and Leonette Fossoway? Oh Will…"

Yet Will did not hear him and found himself lost in his own desperate thoughts "Perhaps…perhaps there is still a way I can change Lord Fossoway's mind. If I defeat ser Garlan in the joust or in combat perhaps then he'll allow me his daughter's hand!"

"Don't be a bloody fool!" cut in Renly, his voice deathly sharp now. "Why don't you look at it from Leonette's point of view; If she marries Garlan she can stay in the Reach and wouldn't have to leave her family behind, and ever since Willas Tyrell became a cripple it has become questionable as to whether he could father an heir, in which case Garlan would inherit and Leonette as his wife would be Lady of Highgarden itself. She would live a life of luxury, peace and would be surrounded by loved ones. Do you really think you can offer her anything better?"

"I am a Stark of Winterfell, and the one who loves her."

"You may be a Stark but you're only a fourth son, you have absolutely nothing to inherit and even if by some madness you did convince her to marry you she would be stuck up in the Northern wastes away from everything she loves. Surely you have not forgotten Lynesse Hightower? Is that the sort of marriage you want for her?"

Will was stunned by Renly's words, every part of his being wanted to argue, to shout, tell him how little he knew and how wrong he was but then he thought of his friend, the brave bear knight and how his marriage had destroyed him, and a horrible feeling of defeat washed over Will taking all of his strength. "I love her more than I've loved anyone else in my life, what cruel jape is this that we can't be together?"

Renly stared at him with a surprisingly sympathetic look and put a reassuring hand on Will's shoulder, though the Young Stark wanted nothing more than to rip it off and tear Renly limb from limb, he kept quiet though and sat hunched in his chair, a despondent look on his face as Renly spoke to him in a gentle tone. "If you truly love her Will, then do not interfere with her marriage to Garlan. Let her be happy with him."

_I can't be here anymore _he thought suddenly as he violently shook off Renly's hand and rose from his chair, quickly leaving the table much to the surprise of the other occupants. As he made his way through the various guests he glanced over at Leonette and Garlan briefly before leaving the great hall.

For the longest time Will sat in his tent, trying his best to drown his sorrows with as much wine as he could get his hands on, yet despite drinking enough down an elephant he still couldn't find release from the burning pain within. What was worse were the treacherous thoughts that would pop up in his mind every now and then causing his heart to ache like a throbbing wound. _You were never good enough for her_ they would whisper, _you'll always be trapped by your birth…_ eventually he could stand it no longer and knew that he had to confront Leonette and see if she truly did love Garlan.

He could vaguely remember the directions Edrick had given him the day previous about the Fossoway tents, something about all the Reach lords all making camp closest to the Walls of Storm's End. _So that Renly could fuck that pansy Ser Loras_ thought Will bitterly as he half jogged, half stumbled towards the Reach tents. _Didn't need directions anyway, could have just followed the smell of drunken pomposity…_

Will almost broke into a sprint as he approached a tent sitting beneath what looked to be a banner of the Red Fossoways, his breathing growing heavy as he got closer and closer. He was not five feet from the flap of the tent when suddenly two figures emerged, and he could tell by the sound of the woman's heavenly laughter that it was Leonette and he almost wretched up his dinner and all that wine when he saw her lock lips with Garlan Tyrell. _Gods it's true, every single thing Renly said, about her and Tyrell….about me. _He almost felt his legs give way underneath him as he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

Suddenly Leonette's eyes caught sight of Will and immediately broke off the kiss and backed away from Garlan as if he was his very touch burnt. She took a step towards Will, staring wide eyed at him with a look of shock and sadness crossing her beautiful face. "Will…I-I'm sorry….I tried to tell you but I just couldn't bring myself-" she had started.

But Will was long gone before she could even finish, running back through the night like some feral beast rushing through his tent in a fury unlike any he had ever felt before. _The wolf's blood_ his father had called, but did Lord Rickard know exactly how deeply such madness ran? Did he know what it meant to want to tear out another man's throat? Such thoughts briefly went through Will's head before he felt the terrible blackness overcome him and he found himself lost to all reason as he tore apart everything and anything inside his tent.

He only regained his true sense of things after he had finally collapsed from exhaustion on the floor of his tent, surrounded by a mess of torn up books and documents, his table and chair overturned with some of the legs broken off from the force of his strikes, good clothes were ripped at the seams and shattered pieces of clay jugs were littering the floor. When he looked around at the wreckage that was once his personal quarters he felt an odd sense of emptiness; he knew that the things he had destroyed were all items of some importance, both to him as a knight and also to him as person including many of the old books that Maester Luwin had given him, which were now torn to shreds, yet instead of feeling guilt at his actions he felt nothing. _How can I ever feel anything again? I haven't a heart left, that whore took it from me…_

He briefly felt a flash of rage swell when he looked over at the small chest of valuables that he had brought with him from Winterfell's vault. _My wedding dowry _he thought bitterly, _how could I have ever been so fucking stupid?_ For what seemed like ages he simply sat in the ruin of his tent, unmoving and barely aware of the world before an incessant thought crept into his head. _You should at least find Father's ring. _So with a deep sigh he dragged himself over to the pile of jewels that lay spilt over the floor, his eyes scanning for the familiar silver in the sea of gold and ruby.

But then he saw it.

The silver reflected in the corner of his eye, almost calling to him from amongst the depths of all the other petty treasures that he had once prized and he instinctively reached over and picked up the small item thinking that he had recovered the ring. However the thing that lay in his grasp was much larger than his ring, it sat perfectly in the groove of his palm, silver molded into a spiral shape with a distinctive curved head at the top. Looking back at him was the Silver Serpent badge the Red Viper had given to him many moons ago, and as he looked into the small indentations that formed the snake's eyes he realized what he must do.


	16. Sunspear

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Thanks again to those who reviewed, favorited and followed the story!**

The sun was rising when Will arrived in Cape Wrath, he had ridden hard through the night, pushing his horse much harder than the poor beast could handle and only stopping briefly to rest. He had gathered as much gold as he could carry and some small supplies for his trip. He had left almost everything else behind assuming that someone in service under his house would make sure that it wasn't looted. He could almost picture Edrick coming to wake him for his day's joust; no doubt his young squire would be terribly discontented about his absence and Will felt a pang of guilt at that but did not consider turning back even once. He knew that Domeric would look after the boy, though he wondered if his old friend would send any riders after him. _They wouldn't have the faintest idea of where to begin looking_ thought Will with a bizarre sense of excitement.

The small town lay just beyond Mistwood and as far as Will could tell was made up of mostly boating communities and fishermen. He stopped at a local inn to break his fast and water his horse, but made sure to keep to himself so as to avoid arousing any suspicion. By the time he had finished his small serving of crispy bacon and ale the sun had risen higher in the sky providing the village with a nice glow that was very unlike the Stormlands and as he entered the local docks the first thing he noticed was how sparklingly blue the sea was.

He slowly eyed off all the sailors and fisherman at work before settling on a one particular boat being crewed by several Dornishmen, most of them unloading huge kegs of wine out onto the docks for transport. Will had no idea if any of these men could help him but he had nothing else to lose so he put on the silver badge and approached the men anyway.

"Um greetings…I'm wondering if any of you fine men could help me with something." He said in an unsure voice.

One of the men who were moving the kegs looked over his shoulder at Will with a thoroughly annoyed expression and set aside what he was holding and walked over to the young Stark. "Look northerner we have a job to do and we can't stop to help every dumb fucker who-" but his words died in his throat as he looked down at the silvery snake pinned to Will's chest and suddenly a look of sheer horror passed over his face. "F-forgive me my lord, I wasn't aware you were a friend of Prince Oberyn, how may I serve?"

And so with that, Will found himself the newest guest aboard _Lady Mellario_ on her return trip to Sunspear, most of the crew had been eager to help him once they learned of his connections to the Red Viper and some had even offered their own cabins, leaving him resting comfortably inside his own room, helping himself to a jug of the ship's cargo. He hadn't sleep since his exodus from Storm's End and found himself utterly exhausted once he lay down, yet he made sure he had drunk his weight in wine before allowing himself to doze off, afraid of what was waiting for him in his dreams.

* * *

The thing that Will decided he hated most about Sunspear was the heat; the constant and unrelenting heat that seemed to bare down on him. Even inside the relatively cool confines of Prince Oberyn's study he still found himself sweating like a pig. Will's entire existence had been spent in the biting cold of the North; he had been used to the freezing temperatures, born into it and infused it into his very blood but now here in the heat he had never felt more out of his element. Despite his discomfort he sat perfectly still as he waited for Lady Ellaria to fetch the Viper, vaguely admiring the collection of books that sat on the wall across from him.

Quietly a servant entered the room and silently placed a jug of wine on the table in front of Will along with two cups before wordlessly exiting the room. Will watched with cool indifference as the tiny man slunk out of the room and eyed off the jug in front of him, for a moment he considered pouring himself a cup but then thought better of it and left it where it was. Not too long afterwards he could hear firm footsteps approaching the room and he unconsciously straighten up as Oberyn Martell entered, a look of amusement in those dark eyes of his as he sat down across from Will.

"Well, if it isn't Ser Willam of House Stark, hero of the Greyjoy Rebellion and famed tourney knight. What do I owe the pleasure?" he asked calmly.

Will let out a deep sigh and leant forward, never breaking eye contact from the Viper. "You made me a great offer the last time we spoke; I was too _foolish_ to take you up on it at the time. I was….blinded by a falsehood. But now, if you would have me, I would like to accept."

Oberyn sat in silence as his scrutinizing black eyes scanned Will's face for any trace of a lie, any hint of dishonesty that may come back and hurt whatever plans he had. Will could almost feel the Viper gazing right through into his soul. After the longest time Martell finally broke off his stare and poured himself a cup of wine before gesturing to Will, who merely nodded in thanks as the Prince handed him a cup as well which he drank heartily. The Viper took a small sip before finally breaking the silence.

"When I first met you, I could see that you had a…spark, a fire deep within that would allow you to do great or terrible things." He said softly, pausing to gauge Will's reaction before continuing. "In a lot of ways you remind me of myself. When I told you I saw great potential in you I wasn't lying, but I must warn you that realizing that potential won't be easy. It may be necessary for you to make hard choices; you will have to leave the things you love behind; Family, friends, even your homeland. Are you willing to make those sacrifices?"

Will found himself unable to speak for a while as he thought of those within his life, his brothers and all of his young nieces and nephews whom had yet to grow into the brave and beautiful people he knew they would be, Domeric his oldest and most loyal friend, Edrick his ever faithful squire who was in truth the closest thing he had to a little brother. _I might never see any of them again_ he thought with great sadness. But then he thought of Leonette, and Renly Baratheon's words. _If I am ever to truly get what I want, if I am ever to be rid of the shackles of my birth ….then I can't stay here._

"As long as I stay in Westeros, I'll never be free."

Oberyn gave a slight smile and extended his hand over to Will, who met it with his own, however when he went to let go the Viper wouldn't release his grip. "Listen to me Will, the old you is dead. You understand? From now on you're a new man; free from the sins and loyalties of the past….fight with me Young Wolf and help me set this world to rights."

Will looked the Red Viper right in the eye, his spirit burning with silver fire as he gave a solemn nod. Martell seemed to accept that and relinquished his hold and drained the rest of his wine before rising from his seat, gesturing Will to do the same.

"I have matters I need settled, people to speak with. I'll have one of the servants escort you to some temporary quarters where your things are waiting for you, you can wash up and rest and we'll talk again soon."

And with that Will was ushered from the room out into the hallway where a short plump looking woman was waiting, she silently led him up a flight of stairs into a large open room that was well decorated with all manner of paintings and furniture. There was also a Cyvasse board set up on a small table sitting beside a large bookcase in what he assumed was a makeshift study nook and just as the Viper had said his things were sitting on his bed undisturbed.

Using his time alone, Will had the servants run him a nice cool bath to wash away all the grime and sweat from his journey. As he lay back in the soothing water he felt his muscles loosen up and he felt he could almost sleep in the cooling water, his mind soon wandered off and he began to think back on Winterfell and his family. _Will they think me dead? Will Ned brand me a coward? _ He hardened his heart at the thought of such a thing and waved it away. _It's like Oberyn said, I have a new life now. No use looking back…_

A few hours later Lady Ellaria came and invited him to sup with her and Prince Oberyn to which he readily agreed as he hadn't eaten anything other than dried beef for the last three nights and was eager to hear more about Oberyn's plans.

As he and Ellaria came into Oberyn's quarters they found the prince locked in an argument with a young slender girl with dark brown skin and curly black hair who looked to be no older than three and ten, and much to Will's great surprise the young girl seemed to be winning her argument with the Viper. However before the argument could continue any longer Ellaria coughed loudly, making their presence known.

Oberyn straightened up ever so slightly and then waved them over before turning back to the young girl. "I've said all I will on the matter and that's final." He said in a stern tone.

"But father!" cut in the young girl, desperately.

"I don't want to hear it Sarella. Now off you go, I have company."

The young girl briefly looked over at Will and then back to her father and opened her mouth to reply before suddenly shutting it again after seeing her father's firm look and then sullenly stormed out of the room in defeat.

Will stood there feeling slightly awkward at what he just witnessed before Oberyn waved him over to the table. "My daughter Sarella." He said answering Will's unasked question. "She really is a sweet child but every now and then she tries to stick her nose in where it doesn't belong, always getting into trouble."

Will wasn't sure what to say to that so he merely nodded as the servants came in with their meals and wine. Like the last time he had supped with the Viper the food was quite spicy and exotic and he found that he had to wash down almost every bite with a mouthful of wine. His two Dornish hosts seemed quite amused by his trouble yet did nothing aside from make the occasional jape.

"We must discuss things." Said Oberyn before gesturing for the servants to clear the table, and once they had all left the room he moved his black eyes back on Will. "I have made all the proper arrangements here so that my absence won't cause any trouble. You on the other hand must keep an extremely low profile. The gods only know what those in Kings Landing would do if they realized you and I were in collusion, we'll have to move quickly so that the Spider doesn't discover our plans. We will leave just before first light on the morrow and hopefully we'll be in the free cities within the weeks turn."

"Where exactly are we headed?"

The viper looked over at Will, smiling from the brim of his wine glass, a gleam of mischief in his dark eyes.

"We're going to meet our new army."


	17. And Soon comes the Darkness

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: And here we are with a brand new chapter! Once again big shout out to all those who reviewed, followed or favorited the story, you guys keep me going!**

They arrived in Braavos after a week of traveling the Narrow Sea aboard one of Oberyn's private vessels.

Whilst on their trip Oberyn had extensively told Will of the history behind the Silver Serpents, "It was during the period where I lived as a sellsword with the Second Sons" he had said with a look of shame "Elia's death was fresh on my mind and violence was the only thing that could dull my grief, but in time I slowly found myself sobering up to the kind of life I was living, at the cruelty and injustice going on about me; I was in the presence of people no better than those who killed my sister and her children."

For a time he remained silent and Will was certain he would not speak again, but after taking a deep mouthful of wine he somehow found the strength to continue with his tale. "I finally sat down with my brothers in arms, the ones I could trust that is, and I offered them all the chance to reclaim the glory of our past lives."

"And with those men you founded the Silver Serpents?" asked Will unsurely, only to be met with a grim nod from the Viper who went on to explain how he had originally funded the company of warriors using his own coin before they were able to make a decent living amongst the Free Cities.

He had also told Will about the principles which every man in the company adhered to. "We do not pillage, we do not rape, and we do not raise our swords against those who cannot defend themselves."

For the rest of the journey Will closely read all he could of Braavos and her history and was fascinated by how much the Braavosi had endured from the time of Valyrian Freehold as refugee slaves trying to escape from dragons up until they were able to establish a free and independent state away from much of the outside world. When the day came that they were within sight of the grand city, Will stood above deck in awe of the fearsome Titan of Braavos that stood proud and mighty as it guarded the city, a testament to the power these people had.

They managed to enter the docks mostly unnoticed with Oberyn's ship disguised as a simple merchant vessel with fruit and wine from Westeros, and the entire crew dressed in simple wares. Once they left the ship Oberyn's men ushered them over to a waiting wheelhouse which Will reluctantly got in. As they travelled along the many bridges that connected the small marsh islands to the mainland, Will couldn't help but stare out his side window in amazement of the glorious city built in such an ingenious way that allowed it the full power of the sea. Oberyn however kept his dark eyes firmly focused on Will the entire journey, an unreadable expression on his olive features.

The wheelhouse continued to go on even further through the inner city streets of the mainland and even beyond, into the outer lands where there were fewer people and more open spaces. The further they went the drier it became until finally they found themselves in a rocky hillside with the damp seaport of Braavos nothing more than a tiny speck in the distance.

Eventually after many hours they came across a very ancient and partially demolished fortress. The exterior was made up of six mighty towers that were connected by a long and curving wall that was itself extremely withered and full of holes created from battles past. The six points of these towers all stood together in a rough hexagonal shape, and within the great hexagon stood a large square slab of stone that was crowned by a collection of battlements.

"Welcome to the lair of the Silver Serpents, it'll be your new home." said Oberyn as they exited the wheelhouse.

Will looked about the great fortress base, alive with activity of various armed men moving in and about the ancient structures, practicing sword play in one area, archers shooting targets in another, the place looked every bit the home of army.

"How did you get all this?" asked Will in amazement.

"I made a deal with the sea lord of Braavos many years ago; he would grant me and mine this land to use, and we would come to the aid of Braavosi whenever they needed it." He explained casually as he eyed off the various soldiers at work.

"And they just accepted that? Why?"

Oberyn now turned his gaze back on the young Stark, a serious look clouding his dark eyes. "Because the word of a Prince of Dorne is worth quite a bit."

Before Will could respond several large warriors rode up to him and Oberyn in a furious pace, they were a motley crew of Andal, Rhoynar and Pentoshi all dressed in boiled leather with a singular serpent engraved across their chest, however it was the leader of these riders that caught Will's attention the most; sitting atop a Dornish stallion was probably the largest man Will had ever seen; he was a wall of copper muscle with large arms that looked twice as long as Will's own and with a chest that was covered in various battle scars and bright blue war paint. His face was hard and thoroughly scarred like the rest of him, with a nose that looked as if it had been broken repeatedly. His eyes were the shape of almonds and a deep brown color and seemed like they were older than their years.

Oberyn however seemed none too concerned about the large horselord's presence and bowed slightly to the Dothraki. "What news do you bring Taggo?"

The big man dismounted and gave a bow of his own before speaking. "A messenger from Norvos has word that Tyrosh and Myr are on the verge of war once again, we may have work there, Blood of my Blood." Grunted the large man in reply, his voice the sound of glass being crushed.

"The Disputed Lands, heh, when will these Cheesemongers ever learn? How are the new recruits faring?" asked the Viper.

"Give me another turn of the moon and then we will have riders that are unmatched." replied Taggo before looking at Will scrutinizing. "Is this the Wolf you spoke of Blood of my Blood? He seems….puny."

Oberyn let out a bark of laughter at that. "This is Will Stark, my new right hand. Will this is the captain of our mounted forces, Taggo."

The big man did not look impressed by the northerner, but to his credit gave a slight nod in Will's direction, which the young Stark returned cautiously. Taggo and Oberyn discussed some other minor details before the large Horselord was off on another excursion whilst Oberyn lead Will towards the large center keep in through the dining hall and up a flight of winding stairs until finally they entered what must have once been an ancient Braavosi library as there was many empty bookcases carved into the very stone of the place.

Now however it was filled scrolls, notes, ledgers, and other manner of documents and the center of the room sat an elderly man with his head down on a desk, writing something furiously, not bothering to lift his head and turn at the two visitors currently inside what was presumably his work space.

The two guests stood in place for a moment as the man continued to write away, before suddenly the sound of quill scratching across paper stopped and the elderly figure let out a deep sigh. "Is there something you need Oberyn or are you just going to stand there like a damned fool?"

"And they call _me_ the Viper." replied Oberyn with faux hurt. "I need you to enlist Ser Willam here."

At the mention of Will's name the old man slowly turned around in his chair and gave the young Stark a scrutinizing look from behind his spectacles. Will himself studied the old man in return, his dark amber skin looked as if it had been wind burnt to the point where his face was made of boiled leather, with large bags underneath his tired brown eyes. What caught Will's attention the most was the man's long grey hair; just above the crown of his head sat two large spikes of oiled hair that had been fashioned into the shape of threatening horns.

The old man tore his gaze from Will and looked over at Oberyn. "Is he true?"

To that the Viper gave a firm nod. "He knows his vows."

The elderly man grunted at that and turned back to Will with a look of distaste. "Judging by that ridiculous look on your face I'm guessing this is the first time you've met a Ghiscari? Eh, well at any rate I am Kovac De Reznek, accountant and paymaster of this humble band." And with that he pointed to large an extremely large leather book that was lined in silver casing sitting over on his desk. "Take a pen, sign that, and leave me be."

Not needing to be told twice Will went over to the book and dabbed his pen in ink, yet before he inscribed his name he looked at all the other names that were scrolled out across the pages; men and women all from different creeds and races. _I sign this and these people become my new family._ He hesitated for a second but then thought of Leonette and quickly scratched down his name, forever marking him as a Silver Serpent.

* * *

Will decided that he liked his new quarters. They were fairly modest chambers, with all the essentials; a sizeable bed to sleep in, a table to eat his meals, a study and desk nook for which he could work at and a bookshelf lined with a number of works from the great writers of Essos, all in all it was a fine living area. However Will's reprieve to did not last long as he was awoken from his dozing by the harsh knocking of the Viper at his door. "Come, you've rested enough and we have much training to do."

The Dornishman lead Will down to the stables in a hurry and once they were outside the exterior walls of the keep Oberyn leaned over from atop his horse and pointed to a mountain in the horizon. "That's where we're headed Stark, let's see if we can reach it before nightfall." And with that they were off, galloping across the rocky plains, pushing their steeds as hard as they could, never so much as stopping to keep an eye on one another.

The sun was setting just as they reached the foot of the large jagged mountain, the rock formations casting bizarre and beautiful shadows out across the land. At the very base of the mountain grew a large bundle of violet roses that swayed ever so slightly in the wind, giving off a sweet scent. _Lyanna would have loved these _thought Will with a pang over melancholy.

"Tears of Valyria, they usually grow further east around the city of Volantis." said Oberyn as he carefully tied his horse to an outstretched tree branch, before heading over the stony and uneven path going up the mountain, gesturing for Will to follow. "Be careful here, these paths are quite unstable so only walk where I walk."

The ascent up the mountainside was nerve racking for Will as he tried to remain as close to Oberyn as possible along the small path that seemed to grow slimmer and slimmer as it curved up and around the mountain. To make matters worse the daylight was fading quickly and Will found it increasingly harder to keep to Oberyn's paces, and at one point he felt a piece of rock give way beneath him as he accidently put his foot in the wrong spot and eventually they began a slow climb up with very little space for footing. Despite all the hazards Oberyn seemed to be in high spirits, chatting away about how he and Elia used to hide from their brother Doran by climbing up into the rafters of the Sept at Sunspear and going on about how his brother would fume at it all, never minding that Will was too busy concentrating on not falling to his death to answer.

By the time they finally reached the top the sun was gone and the moon taken its place in the sky, blanketing the earth in its luminous glow. Oberyn set to work at building a small fire out of whatever small bits of wood he could gather up whilst Will set down his supplies and began to rest himself against a nice warm rock. Once Martell managed to get the fire started they sat in close and began to chew on the salted beef they had brought for the trip and ate in silence for a time.

"You're aware of why they call me the Red Viper." Said Oberyn suddenly, more of a statement than a question.

"Because of the poisoned weapons you use."

Oberyn looked over at him with an unreadable expression. "Does that…bother you, my use of poisons to defeat my foes?"

Will thought on it and at first instinctively felt that such a tactic was dishonorable and cowardly, yet he had seen a lot of violence in his time, seen many good people resort to anything in order to survive, he had even done it himself as was the way of combat. Why would Oberyn's poisonous blades be any different as long as it killed his opponents and saved his life? "No." he said finally.

Oberyn looked down at the fire, intently as if giving the flames some form of unspoken challenge. "For my fourteenth name day my father gifted me with a horse." He said quietly without looking away from the fire. "A large red stallion bred from the finest stock and one of the fastest around…beautiful animal." His voice seemed to catch ever so slightly as spoke now. "To celebrate, me and my father rode out just before dawn and had a race to see who could get to the Water Gardens first, and I seem to recall I was winning, but then we saw a man on the road, lying face down and inert with the stench of death about him…but of course my father being the kind man that he was went over to help the downed figure. As he rolled the man onto his back a snake slithered out from underneath and bit my father right on the face. Of course my father crushed the beast underneath his boot and we rode back to Sunspear immediately but….we didn't even make it five miles before he fell from his horse and never got back up." For a time Oberyn simply stared into the fire, his face now lined with some ancient grief. "It was then that learned the true power of such things." He said with a deep sigh.

"Power? But the snake was killed." Said Will in confusion.

Oberyn finally lifted his gaze from the fire and now turned his black eyes to Will's own. "Who achieved more glory in death? My father for crushing a weaker animal effortlessly, or the tiny snake who brought a giant to his knees? That is true power; It doesn't matter how big or powerful you are… you will die just as any other man."

_Even a man as powerful as Tywin Lannister… _mused Will as he let Martell's words sink in and remained silent for a time, the only noise coming from the crackle of the fire before them. Finally Oberyn stood up and unrolled his cloak, using to as a mat across the rocky ground beneath them. "Get some sleep Will; you have a long day ahead of you."

* * *

Will was awoken from his slumber at the crack of dawn by a sharp stinging sensation in his left hand, jolting up he brought his now throbbing hand up to inspect and could see that it was bleeding from a scratch of some sort. Suddenly he felt something cool move against his leg and outwardly cursed in horror as he saw a snake raise its head to him and open its diamond patterned hood as it went strike him again. Jumping back as far as he could he quickly reached over for a large piece of deadwood and began beating the creature until its form was nothing more than a twisted mess.

"Ah I see that you've met our friend." Came Oberyn's voice as he calmly packed up his cloak from the ground and begun to reattach it his body.

Will's hand would not stop throbbing and he was already begging to feel a hot sweat come over him as his breaths became more rapid. "Oberyn quick, it bit me! You have to help me! Y-you…you know all about poisons and snakes and…. Gods, please help me!" begged Will as he felt himself becoming light headed.

Oberyn's face however remained impassive and his voice was calm and clinical. "You were bitten by a Death's Head Cobra, their venom is extremely deadly, but luckily for you I made sure to milk some of its venom last night before I put it in your blanket, the amount in that bite should take at least 24 hours to work its way to your heart."

Will just about leapt at the Dornishman in rage, trying to throttle him with what strength he had left, however Oberyn was easily able to push the weakened Stark to the ground. "Conserve your energy Will, you'll need it for the climb down."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You bring me all this way just to kill me?" asked Will desperately as he suddenly felt it extremely hard to keep his eyes open.

"Whether you live or die is up to you my friend." He said calmly as he knelt down beside him. "You're going to pass out soon so it's very important that you remember this." he said as he held up Will's head. "At the foot of the mountain grows a special flower, do you remember? The Tears of Valyria, if you can climb down and pick one of these flowers and return to camp before tomorrow's sunrise then the Maester can make you a cure from the flower petals. If not….then I'm afraid this place will be your end." And with that Will felt himself consumed by darkness.

* * *

When he awoke the sun was high in the sky sending blistering rays down on Will's feverish body. For a moment he was unsure where he was or whether the past events were all a dream, but when he pressed down on his hand he felt a jolt of pain rip up through his entire arm and he knew it was no dream. Quickly getting himself up he searched around for Oberyn only to find himself utterly alone at the mountain, with the rocky wastelands all around him and a nauseous feeling growing in his stomach.

Remembering Oberyn's words he walked over towards the edge of the mountain side and slowly, hesitantly, began to lower himself down the cliff side desperately trying to work his feet and hands within whatever grooves and cracks he could, all the while feeling the pain in his hand slowly throb more and more. Finally he felt himself reach the narrow path that he and Oberyn walked earlier and began to quickly shuffle his way down the winding path, doing what he could to press himself against the side of the mountain every time he felt a strong breeze hit him.

As he went on he felt himself getting colder and colder and couldn't help but shiver furiously, likewise the feeling of nausea got so bad that he suddenly wretched up the previous day's meal of beef and wine against the mountainside, his whole body now aching from the effort. Despite himself he kept pressing on, trying to ignore the burning pain in his stomach and the throbbing in his hand and head. He was able to make it a few more feet before doubling over and vomiting up once again this time his whole body seemed to give out and it for a moment he could barely lift himself up from the filth.

"That's right, stay in the mess you've made yourself,_ Kinslayer."_

Will's eyes widened with terror at the sound of that familiar voice, that voice he heard throughout his childhood. Standing before him was Lord Rickard Stark, just as Will had last seen him; standing tall and strong in his armor, with that same cold look on his long, stern face. "Y-you're dead!" choked out Will as he desperately tried to get up and away from the specter.

"Aye, because you killed me." He said bitterly.

Will shook his head desperately. "Aerys Targaryen killed you!"

"But you were the one who told Brandon that Lyanna was with Rhaegar, it's your fault that we died in kings landing, just like it's your fault that your mother died."

"YOU'RE NOT HERE!" screamed Will, his cry echoing out across the mountain. Rickard merely smiled however, a sinister look that Will had never seen on the man during his lifetime.

"All you do is bring misery and death to House Stark and this mountain Will be your grave Kinslayer, it's no wonder that the Fossoway woman didn't want you."

Suddenly Will felt a deep animalistic anger rise up within him and before he could stop himself he lunged forward at his father ready to throttle him, but instead of hitting the old man he instead passed through air and felt himself tumble out on the ledge of the mountain and suddenly the ground gave way beneath him.

He didn't quite fall so much as he rolled furiously down the steep mountainside, each sharp rock and stick digging into his flesh and bruising his body, dirt and gravel filling his mouth until finally after what seemed like an eternity of motion he felt himself hit something hard and lay sprayed out amongst the rocks, his whole body aching and warm blood rushing out from his face, neck and chest.

It was there in the rubble that Will laid, broken in body and soul. Soon even his thoughts began to betray him as well as he slipped in and out of consciousness. _He's right you deserve to die here, so far away from Winterfell whispered_ a voice in his head._ It'll be easy, just lie down and let the darkness take you._

"Why are you even listening to that old fool?"

Slowly, ever so slowly he lifted his head from amidst the dirt and opened his eyes and stared at the figure kneeling next to him. _"Lyanna_?_"_ he choked out as he stared in awe at his sister, wearing that same white dress that she was buried in, her long dark hair in curls with winter roses tied into them.

She locked eyes with him and gave a cheeky smile, "Who else would it be _stupid._" She said teasingly as she reached over and wiped a stray lock of Will's dirty hair from his face. "Didn't you once tell me and Ben that you were as sure footed as a mountain goat? What happened there?"

At that Will suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of misery wash over him and couldn't help but begging sobbing. "I killed you Lya….I broke my promise! I told Brandon…..I told him about Rhaegar and you all died because of _me_." His eyes began to run with tears and blood.

But then he felt a warmth press against his cheek as Lyanna slowly lifted his face to meet hers. "You stop that nonsense right now! You did nothing wrong Pup, you were a little boy surrounded by Kings and Lords and knights all caught up in their own game of thrones." Another dazzling smile "Now you need to get up, get up and keep going."

Looking up at his sister, with her fierce silver eyes and that same determined grin on her face that she always wore whenever she was told she couldn't do something, Will felt an overwhelming warmth cover his body and with a colossal force of effort he slowly began to rise up unsteadily to his feet, swallowing his pain and slowly moving forward whilst Lyanna walked beside him encouraging him on.

By the time he finally reached the base of the mountain it was nightfall and he could barely see two steps in front of him as he stumbled down the final slope. All the while Lyanna would stay close, more a voice than any real sight but she was always there whispering in his ear. "_You're so close Pup, just a few more steps. You've nearly made it." _

Finally he was met with the familiar scent of the violet roses and he rushed forward to pick a few, being careful to make sure the petals remained intact as he gently placed them within his pocket. He walked forward from the flowers, whistling as loud as his bloody lips could take, praying that Oberyn had left his horse, a prayer that was swiftly answered as he heard his stallion call out to him from the darkness.

Using mainly moonlight and repeated whistles he was able to find his steed and gently untie him before mounting up and urging the mighty beast onwards, onwards to what he hoped was the right direction. "Sun…rise, I-I have till…sunrise." he muttered as he rode, barely able to hear himself over the sound of the hoof beats. "_You'll make it."_ whispered Lyanna's voice in the back of his head.

He kept riding for god knows how long when finally he caught sight of some distant fires that he assumed belonged to the camp so he urged his horse on even more, pushing the poor animal to limits. Despite his blurring vision he could see the fires coming closer and closer and smiled to himself wearily as the tiny castle gates got larger as he approached, an mad laugh emanating from within as he finally reached the outer wall and some early guards starting their days rounds, and yet still he pushed onwards as he entered though, riding closer towards the inner keep.

Suddenly he began to feel his world turn topside and he felt himself fall from his saddle, down, down into the looming darkness.


	18. Faith

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: I appologize for the lateness of this chapter, things at work have been hectic lately and I hadnt been able to write as much as I would have liked, but thats all over now so expect things to get back on schedule.**

**Once again I'd like to thank everyone who followed, favorited and reviewed the story, it really does keep me going.**

It was daylight when Will awoke, with bright rays of light shining in through the cracks and holes of the Silver keep and for a moment Will thought he was back in the Dreadfort library reading up on dragons with Domeric but then his senses returned to him and he realized he was in his rooms in Braavos. His hand had been heavily bandaged and he could taste something sweet still in the back of his mouth, the feeling of nausea long passed.

"Ah you're awake."

Suddenly Will sat up with his whole body ready to strike at the Dornishman sitting at his bedside. "You're a damned lunatic!" he shouted as he rose from his bed, slowly edging away from Oberyn. "I could have died!"

Martell to his credit simply gave Will a bemused expression and remained seated. "You _could_ have, but you _didn't. _You were strong enough to make it back and that's something to be proud of." He said in an even voice, with a shadow of a smile creeping across his dark features.

"Proud? Are you insane? You poisoned me for no reason!" shouted Will once more, his free hand clenched in a fist ready to strike.

"I had a perfectly good reason, I wanted to show you the power of the serpent and…to see if you were worthy of it."

At that Will stared at Oberyn cautiously, the Viper's words catching him off guard. "What do you mean?"

Oberyn was silent for a moment but then stood from his chair and walked slowly towards Will and rolled up his right sleeve revealing two puncture marks on his olive wrist. "I don't poison a man without understanding what I'm subjecting him to. The agony of each breath, the terrible heat burning away from the inside, the delirium on the outside…these are all things I have endured, things you have endured as well. Now when you take a man's life like that you'll know exactly what you're condemning him too."

Will stared at the twin scars on Oberyn's arm, identical to his own and felt his anger subside as he mulled over the Viper's words. Images of his father and Lyanna swirled about in his mind and briefly recalled the taste of blood, vomit and dirt that had filled his mouth not even two days ago, in his life he had never felt closer to death than he had on that mountain.

Oberyn gave him a sad smile and turned to leave. "I'll give you some time to rest." And with that he swiftly exited Will's chambers, leaving the young Stark alone with his thoughts

He went over to his table and took a mouthful of what he assumed was the tea that had saved his life; it was a like pinkish color and had a sweet taste it, washing away whatever remnants of bile still remained in his throat and gave him a light pleasant feeling. He stood at the table for several moments just staring into the jug of pink liquid, trying his best not to forget how he had found the strength to get that tea; he had been on the brink of death yet he still managed to overcome the mountain and the ghosts of his past to survive. _Father was there, trying to kill me _he thought with a slight sting of pain, still hearing his dead father's harsh words and biting insults as he struggled to move down the vertical rock formation.

_And yet Lyanna was trying to save me_ he thought with a sense of pride. All of the pain Oberyn had caused by poisoning him had seemed miniscule in comparison to the strength Lyanna had given him in those moments. _She freed me from all of that guilt that I had been carrying around, and made stronger because of it._ Yet it was only from the Viper's actions that he had reached this epiphany, which caused him to wonder; had he really been wronged at all from this ordeal?

_I no longer fear my past; perhaps he can give me the strength to build my future_ he mused as he returned to bed, for the first time in years no longer afraid of what he might find waiting in his dreams.

* * *

The next morning Will decided to break his fast with the soldiers in the mess hall and to his great surprise found that the warriors were quite respectful and welcoming of his presence, even the large Dothraki rider Taggo seemed friendlier and beckoned Will over to his table to sup, which he did so somewhat bemusedly.

Sitting down on the chair beside the large copper man Will was immediately handed a horn of some form of milk. Taggo grinned at him expectedly so Will took a small mouthful of the substance and was met by an oddly sour taste that was not unlike ale. Despite the strange taste Will found that he liked the milk and drank more, much to Taggo's amusement. "Mares milk, it makes you strong!" he announced proudly.

"Damned good stuff." said Will as he took another mouthful before tearing into a loaf of bread from his plate, chewing away ravenously at the first real meal he had been allowed to eat since the venom passed through his body. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Taggo was still watching him, with some unreadable expression.

After a moment of his long stares the big man finally spoke. "Oberyn is a great man, he is blood of my blood and I would die for him. But you…you were able to survive his mountain, not many men can do that. You are strong, and now you are the blood of Oberyn's blood." He gestured to the scar on Will's hand. "I serve you now too Ser Wolf."

It was strange but Will felt oddly touched by the big man's declaration of loyalty and gave him a firm nod of appreciation and resumed his meal. While he ate Taggo told him about how as a child he and his brothers had been the sons of mighty Khal who was killed in battle by Khal Bharbo and they were forced to flee or face death. "Oberyn saved me and my brothers, taught us how to speak the common tongue and let us fight for something." The way the horselord spoke was so full of utter admiration of the Viper and the Silver Serpents that Will hoped he wouldn't let him or any of the other soldiers down.

After his meal Will ventured out into the practice yard and decided to test himself against some of the men sparring there and was pleasantly surprised by the skill and talent of the men; all of them were better than most soldiers he had fought against in the tourneys of his homelands. He had trouble holding his own against them but found it good fun practicing against skilled water dancers with blunted swords or competing against the Rhoynish at archery. Most of them were good natured, telling tales of old conquests and adventures that had experienced in their time in the company.

However his fun was short lived as the Viper emerged from the keep, flanked by Taggo and three other men who Will had never seen before. What really caught Will's attention was the look on Oberyn's face; usually he kept his expression unreadable to all but now he seemed clearly anxious about something as he made his way towards Will.

"Trouble?" asked Will as he handed his blunted sword to his opponent.

Oberyn gave a grim nod and gestured for the short bald man accompanying him to hand over a small letter he had brought out from his robes. Will took it cautiously and gave the men a curious glance as he opened it and read the contents:

_Prince Oberyn_

_ Tyrosh has made a move for the Disputed Lands; they have already hired the Second Sons and the Brave Companions to add to their already significant army. We believe they are already fifteen thousand strong with thirty ships already on their way to attack Lys, the Lyseni Archon has asked that you meet with his brother in Pentos to discuss possible employment against them. I urge to you to make haste in your decision, should the Tyroshi lay siege against the city I fear Lys will fall within two turns of the moon and they are willing to pay quite a large sum for our services._

_I will report back when I have more news._

_Your faithful servant Alystar._

"They mean to declare war? Are the Tyroshi mad?" asked Will in confusion.

Oberyn shook his head as he and his men hurried off through the keep, gesturing Will to follow. "Tyrosh, Myr and Lys have sat in a state of begrudging peace for the last twenty years following the War of the Ninepenny Kings, but for centuries the three have claimed the Disputed Lands as their own, squabbling over it." He said as he quickly walked up to his solar whilst Will struggled to keep up with the entourage.

Once inside the Viper went over to his study and procured a large map and laid it flat across his table, gesturing for the others to come have a look. The three cities of Tyrosh, Myr and Lys were marked clearly as was the lands where most of the armies did battle in the past; Lys seemed to be situated on a small island south of the Disputed Lands, with Myr laying in the north east. Tyroshi however was a collection of many islands that more than doubled the size of the others.

"Alystar is one our best spies my prince, if he thinks now is the time to act than I suggest we take him on his word." muttered Kovac in his usual bitter tone.

Oberyn ignored him for a moment as he stared at the map spread out across his table, his dark viper's eyes scanning over the drawn landmasses, as if searching for some hidden secret. Finally he let out a deep sigh a waved the old Ghiscari off. "Send a raven to the Sealord; tell him we have a contract abroad and that a majority of our forces will be leaving."

"At once my lord." He said as he left to do as he was bid.

"Tyrosh will seek to use their ships to cut off the Lyseni forces and remove them from the game, and then no doubt bring their land forces east to crush Myr." Oberyn informed them as he pointed to the tiny dotted city. "Taggo I need you to ready all of our riders, even the ones still green. Be ready to leave by the weeks end." He told the big man who nodded before quickly leaving the room.

"It will be done Blood of my blood."

He then looked over at the short bald man at his side. "Mors I need you spread the word out to all of our agents in Volantis to ready any and all supplies they have and send them to Lys." The short man bowed and likewise left the room, leaving only Oberyn and Will.

"What about me? What's my role in this?" he asked cautiously from across the table as the Viper slowly rolled up his map.

"You're coming with me. We're heading to Pentos."

* * *

They arrived in Pentos three days later, trying desperately to make their way through the hustle and hive of activity that the Free City was alive with. After an hour of travelling through the crowded streets they finally reached what Oberyn called his "Haven" which was in fact a great manse that he had purchased to specifically give the Silver Serpents a foot holds amongst the seedier elements of the Free Cities. The manse itself was built like a stronghold; with three levels of walls. The outer most area was surrounded by large brick walls that stood ten feet high with row after row of spikes sitting atop, within that was a large perimeter garden filled with all manner of poisonous flowers and reptiles that encircled the inside of the walls and crept right up to the main building, with another brick wall separating the garden from the manse grounds and the single small path leading in and out of the main gate, making the idea of intruding in Oberyn's home away from home extremely discouraging.

Once their wheelhouse made it to the manse Oberyn had his servants take their things inside while he and Will patrolled the grounds as two guards followed them from a distance. "I have an ulterior motive to bringing you to Pentos Will, and I won't lie or trick you. There are no more poisons or death traps here, but this _is _test, not just for you, but for me as well…to see if my faith in you is well deserved or not."

Will was too stunned to speak as Oberyn continued his quiet confession. "While I am speaking with the Lyseni agent, I would ask that you visit some people for me." And with that he handed Will two things; a note of directions and a dragon bone knife. "When you find them, do as you see fit but make sure there's blood on that blade when you hand it back to me." And with that he walked away, leaving Will in stunned silence as he stared at the blade in his hand.

* * *

After Oberyn had left to attend his meeting with the Lyseni, Will had dejectedly wondered the streets of Pentos, vaguely following the directions on the scrap of paper Oberyn had given him. Occasionally he would press his hand against the dragon bone knife at his hip as if to assure himself that it was still there. He had never murdered in cold blood before and a deep seeded part of him, the _Stark_ part of him, cried out in protest within his head at the dishonor of the act he was about to commit, yet a larger part of himself continued to reason that if Oberyn wanted these people dead than surely they would deserve it. He clung to that belief and used it to carry him closer and closer to this target.

Will was beginning to notice that the streets were getting rougher the further he went, until most of the homes were nothing more than squalid shacks that were partially collapsed, with many beggars sleeping out on the streets. Many of them came to him on their knees begging for food and coin, some of the women even offered their bodies to him in exchange for a gold dragon or two but he firmly told them to leave as he walked on.

Finally he came to the building Oberyn's notes had spoken of and stood across the street as he assessed the situation; a small wooden building with only one visible entrance and enough fighting space that he could comfortably overpower any potential foe if need be. He was about to make his move when suddenly two cloaked figures emerged from the structure and he decided to stay his hand.

From what he could see one was a teenage boy, perhaps three or four years younger than Will, with one hand holding onto a small sack. The other figure was tiny, clutching desperately to the boy's other hand; a child. _Goods be God, he can't expect me to kill a child can he? _ Instead of going over he decided to follow them, making sure to keep a distance as they swiftly walked out of the slums and upwards to the rest of Pentos.

They moved at a quick pace, but not too fast that Will couldn't keep up, especially when one of his targets was a small child who occasionally had to slow down to rest. It was during one of these rests that the child pulled back her hood and revealed the face of a little girl, roughly the same age as Will's nephews. But it was her _hair_ that managed to shock the life out of Will; hair a deep silver that could only be from the blood of Old Valyria. Suddenly the older figure turned around and Will got a good look at the boy's gaunt face, and harsh purple eyes. That's when it hit him; _Rhaegar's brother and sister….._

For a moment he stood there in shock, completely unmoving as the two figures quickly covered themselves once again and hurried off down the street. Will nearly lost sight of them amongst the various people walking about as they moved closer and closer to the market district but managed to find them again and decided to move up closer until he was about three or four feet behind them, just another face in the crowd.

Eventually the siblings stoppedby one of the many food stands and the boy began bargaining with the merchant over the price of a few loaves of bread, trying desperately to convince the man to lower his price for something manageable. Will moved in a little closer to listen to what the boy was saying.

"How about I give you seven silver stags for three loaves?" tried the Targaryen boy.

"No, five stags for one loaf."

"FIVE! For ONE damned loaf?" shouted the boy in outrage.

"Five and you're lucky I give you that."

The boy shuffled through his sack and began ruffling amongst various objects until the merchant stopped him up, a predatory gaze crossing his bearded face as he saw something he liked. "For that fancy crown there, I will give you six loaves." He said in a sickening voice.

The Targaryen boy looked horrified at the notion as he pulled out the object the merchant was speaking of. _Gods_ …thought Will as laid eyes on the crown of Queen Rhaella. The boy stared down at the object in his hand as if trying to memorize every detail, beside him a tiny voice complained to him. "Viserys I'm so hungry."

Will could see the conflict on the boy's face as he looked at the crown and then at his little sister. All the while the merchant grinned happily, knowing he had already won. Very briefly Will considered the knife at his side and what Oberyn had asked him, yet the Stark in him, the true wolf's blood was burning in his veins, was screaming out to him over and over that what he was seeing was _wrong _ and that Viper's mission was _wrong._ Eventually it got to the point where he could no longer stand it and stepped forward.

"Excuse me." He cut in, "You said five silver stags for one loaf? Well I'll take twelve loaves." He said reaching into his cloak and producing a small sack of Gold Dragons. "This should more than cover it."

The merchant looked absolutely stunned but greedily took the sack and handed Will the loaves which he in term handed to the little girl with a smile before turning to the boy. "That was an extremely honorable thing you were about to do for your sister, but it would not do for the last dragon to sell his family heirlooms, _your grace." _He said bowing ever so slightly.

Viserys stared at Will for a long time and seemed to be trying to discern what his motives were before finally speaking. "Do I…know you?" he asked cautiously.

Will smiled kindly at the boy and went to a knee, "I am Ser Willam…Snow, and I had the honor of serving as squire to your valiant brother Rhaegar…he was a true friend, a friendship I would like to offer the _true_ King of Westeros." He said with as much reverence he could feign.

Viserys seemed very impressed by Will's little show and even the little girl seemed to perk up at the mention of Rhaegar. "Well, I will remember your kindness when I take back my throne Ser, you can be sure of that."

He was almost about to send them on their way when he suddenly realized the hovel where the two had come from. _They're Rhaegar's little brother and sister; I can't just let them starve out here in the streets, awaiting Robert's assassins…_

"Would you two do me the honor of supping with me tonight at my manse?" he asked suddenly catching them off guard. No doubt they were wary of strangers making them offers but it seemed that Will's earlier flattering comments and his mention of Rhaegar had won him over with them and he soon escorted them back to Oberyn's manse.

On the walk to the safe house Will was stuck listening as Viserys asked him half a dozen questions about the Rebellion and the current state of Westeros, eager for any news that may help the reclamation of his family's throne. Will did his best to give short and ambiguous answers so as to not give the boy any false hope, but to also let him know that there were still those in the seven kingdoms who remembered them and their family.

Once they reached the Manse Will spotted a familiar figure standing amongst the shadows and had the servants take the Targaryens off to guest quarters to rest and bathe before they supped together. Once the siblings were out of sight he walked over to his mentor, the knife at his side suddenly feeling much more burdening than it had before as he felt his heart beat faster and faster as he approached the Viper.

"So it seems we have two new guests." Said Oberyn quietly, his voice and face both masking his current mood.

For one brief moment Will felt a swell of fear deep within, but it was quickly consumed by a burning fury in his heart and he made sure that his silver eyes stayed fixed on Oberyn's own ebony orbs. When he spoke he found that he was surprisingly calm. "I intend to keep them here, under my protection." He then pulled out the dragon bone dagger and handed it out to Oberyn who merely glanced at the blade before looking back at Will.

"I told you that I wanted blood on the blade before you gave it back."

For a moment Will said and did nothing, but then he grasped the knife by the blade with his left hand and brought across his palm, squeezing tightly until his blood was running down the entire blade and handle before handing it out once again.

"There. You want more? Then you better drive it right through my heart because that's the only way you're going to stop me from keeping those children safe." The young Stark's voice filled with determination as he glared at Oberyn, almost challenging the Red Viper to try something.

But then the Viper surprised him and let out a long, hearty laugh. The Dornishman's whole body was wracking with fits of laughter, leaving Will standing there thoroughly confused. What struck Will was how genuine Oberyn's laughter sounded; there was no hint whatsoever of bitterness or cynicism just simple joy.

Finally, after he composed himself, Oberyn took the dagger from Will's hand and pocketed it. "Thank you for rewarding my faith." And with that he threw an arm around Will's shoulder and led him into off to his study.

"Enjoy yourself tonight. Tomorrow we go to war."


	19. The Mind of a Viper

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Once again, thanks to all who reviewed, followed and favorited the story. **

Oberyn slept a meager four hours that night while Will had his dinner with the two Targaryen children. He made sure that he kept to his rooms the entire time the brother-sister pair roamed about the Manse, having the servants bring all his meals into his room and doing so without their guests notice. _It wouldn't do to have Viserys discover Dorne's allegiance before the time is right…_

It was rare that he ever slept through the entire night and he used that to his advantage when they departed, making sure to be up and ready to leave before the sun. Oberyn was slightly surprised by how quickly Will got ready to depart; usually Stark dragged his feet whenever they were called away at odd hours, now however he seemed almost eager to leave Pentos.

Oberyn asked his young companion about it once they were outside of Pentos and away from any potential spies roaming about. "What's on your mind Will?" he asked from his horse as they trotted along the road out in the Flatlands.

The young Stark made a face, "I don't think Pentos agrees with me. Those children…they were going to sell Queen Rhaella's crown to buy food for Gods' sake, and to hear about how they had to live all these years….." he trailed off before shaking his head in disgust, his long dark hair blowing in the wind.

Oberyn watched his protégé as he went on about what the Targaryens had told him, all details Martell had already been well aware of, but seeing the young man get himself so worked up over the suffering of two people he hadn't met before caused Oberyn to smile slightly. _Good men are scarce these days, but it seems the Gods have seen fit to grant me with one to fight beside me..._

Oberyn's search for a worthy successor had started long ago when he found that there were several members of his company that he had come to mistrust; people who would gladly take control of the leadership by force and use its resources for less honorable paths. It was upon that epiphany that he had decided to return to his home country and search the Seven Kingdoms for someone possessing the right qualities of leadership, he knew several good men from Dorne that would be loyal to him but none had that balance of morality and pragmatism that was necessary for such a position so he turned his search elsewhere. By some dark miracle Balon Greyjoy declared himself King of the Iron islands and taken up arms against the seven kingdoms, causing all abled men to go to battle.

While Oberyn himself stayed out of the affair he made sure that the Dornish soldiers fighting in the battles would send reports back to him of any warrior of note. While the reports were few and far between he had managed to gain an understanding that the youngest son of Rickard Stark had managed to lead an extremely successful assault against the heart of Greyjoy's forces and had even slain one of the Balon's sons himself, all whilst only having eight and ten name days.

It was this piece of news that inspired Oberyn to travel to the Tourney of Lannisport and inspect the Stark boy for himself, to see if he was more than a good sword hand. At first sight the boy wasn't anything special; he had the ivory skin and raven hair of his family, as well as the long face that was common among the Starks, however his silver eyes seemed quite different from his kin in a way that Oberyn couldn't put his finger on, a sense of warmth and humor that seemed absent in the others of his family.

It hadn't taken much to bribe the man at the lists to arrange him and Will to compete against one another, a few sweet words here and there, a sly wink and it was done. He had rode against the boy with the full intention of winning, without holding back at all and he was certain that he had the young Wolf beaten at one point but then he somehow managed to turn the match around and unhorse Oberyn from his steed. It was when the boy helped him to his feet and refused to ransom his armor and shield that Oberyn knew he had found the person he had been searching for. Of course Will had rejected his offer at first but Oberyn could see the ambition in the boy's eyes; he wanted bigger and better things and it was only a matter of time when he finally returned, and twice he had proved his mettle.

Now they were on their way to go to war together against not just one army but three and oddly enough Oberyn found that there was no one else he'd rather have fighting at his side.

* * *

After three days of riding the two companions finally arrived at the encampment where the rest of the company had laid in wait. Most of Taggo's riders were in tents that littered the country side whilst all of the ships they had in their possession sat docked along the coastline, receiving supplies._ How many of these people will live to see the weeks end?_ He thought sadly as tried to memorize each and every face that he rode past.

He briefly stopped in at his own personal tent the men had set up for him and allowed himself a few hours rest before quickly bathing and dressing himself in the bright colors of his house, with the red sun emblazoned across his chest. He had a servant fetch Will from his own tent and had the young Stark accompany him to join the others in the war council.

The council was held inside one of the camps larger tents with many of the company's highest battle commanders sitting around a large table murmuring to each other, which swiftly stopped once Oberyn and Will entered the tent. Oberyn noticed that many of the commanders were watching Will closely as if trying to gauge the sum of his protégé.

Oberyn took his seat at the head of the table and gestured for Stark to take a seat at his right whilst he scanned the faces of all the men in the rooms. To his left sat Toniphos Notar, his Volantian serjeant, his face and head completely clean shaven with two horizontal scars running across his cheeks and over the ridge of his nose. _What's going on in that dome of yours? Are you still as greedy as ever Notar? _ Oberyn had very little love for the Volantian but still had to grudgingly admit that the man had a keen mind for strategy.

He had first met the man that would call himself Toniphos Notar during one of his early visits to Volantis with his brother Doran in the years before Elia had died. One of the then ruling Triachs of Volantis had hosted the two of them at one of his many manses and introduced them to his children, no doubt hoping to buy an allegiance with Dorne through marriage. However it was the Triach's bastard son that caught Oberyn's attention when he managed to best Doran in a game Cyvasse, the boy was apparently a prodigy of some kind and years later when Oberyn was recruiting throughout the Free Cities he thought of the Notar and brought him aboard. _How I've come to regret that_ he mused as he remembered the Volantian's arrogant behavior towards other members of the company.

Sitting beside him was Taggo his faithful lord of horses and perhaps one of the best warriors under the employ of the Silver Serpents. He was a good man, dutiful and extremely loyal but unfortunately had no brains for strategy. _A blunt instrument, all I can do with him is point him in the direction of my enemies and let him and his men unleash the seven hells._

Sitting across from Taggo, beside Will was Mors Sand one of Ellaria's brothers and one of his most fiercely loyal serjeants. Mors very much took after his father lord Harmen in both appearance and manner, with the usual unpredictability and aggression of House Uller. _And that is the problem, he is loyal but his foolishness could get my men killed…_

At the very end of the table sat Prydo Menorhis, who looked back at Oberyn with a slight smile. Prydo had been one of the earliest members to join the Silver Serpents when Oberyn broke off from his employment from the Second Sons and Oberyn was almost certain that the man was the best swordsman he had ever seen. A Water Dancer before he became a Sellsword, the Braavosi was nigh untouchable when he wanted to be and had personal command of over five hundred of the company's best men.

After finishing his scan of the room Oberyn straightened himself up and cleared his throat. "Welcome my brothers; it seems we have yet another battle to fight, yet another contract to fulfill. You all know what sort of battle is awaiting us in the disputed lands and I would hear your thoughts on the matter. But first I will show you the contract that Lys has promised us." And with that he had one his servants bring him the signed letter that the Lyseni man had arranged for him and read it aloud. "Five hundred thousand gold sovereigns and a number of the finest bedslaves of either gender promised to the company, as well as a generous supply of poisons, antidotes and other medicinal supplies for our stores to be handed over after we have defeated the Tyroshi." He then handed the letter around so that the men could see for themselves, most of which murmured in agreement with the terms.

"So we all agree to the Lyseni offer. Now we must decide how to actually win the battle before we can hope to reap the rewards." And with that Oberyn put down a map of the disputed lands on the center of the table. "The armies of Tyrosh have hired both the Second Sons and the Brave Companions to help bolster their numbers and have already sent a majority of their foot and horse to take Myr." He then placed a painted green Cyvasse piece down in front of Myr on the map. "The remainder of their force, mostly war ships, has gone south and laid siege on Lys, effectively cutting off all of its supplies and removing it from the game." He then placed another green piece next to the tiny island of Lys. "We need to decide the best course of action to end this war quickly."

For a moment all were silent as they studied the map and positions of the Tyroshi forces, all were trying to work out the best method of attack. Oberyn could tell some were doing better than others as he watched Taggo scrunch up his face in confusion. _A weapon has no control over where it's directed..._

The first to speak was Notar, his blue eyes constantly shifting from the map to the others at the table. "We should take our forces and strike at them as they try to take Myr. Their forces will be too thinly stretched trying to lay siege on Myr leaving us with the opportunity to come and take them from behind."

Mors leaned forward in his usual aggressive manner and gave Notar a deeply smug look. "Are you touched in the head? It won't just be the Tyroshi we face there. They have hired out both the Second Sons and the Brave Companions! Together that makes their army at least thirty five thousand strong; it'd be suicide going up against them in a direct fight!"

Notar looked as though he was going to burst a blood vessel at the outrage of being talked down at by someone he considered beneath him and for a moment he looked as if he was about to strike out at Mors before suddenly Prydo's heavily accented voice cut through them.

"We signed a contract with Lys; it would not do for us to leave them to starve as the Tyroshi fleet sits at their door. I say we take our ships and break the siege at Lys, then with the Lyseni to bolster our side we can launch an all-out assault at the rest of the army on land."

But then Taggo stopped him up. "We don't have many ships; we'd lose many men breaking that siege."

Notar nodded and began drumming his fingers along the wooden table. "As much as I am loath to admit it, the Horse lord is right. We are not a naval force; we'd be out of our depth against that kind of fleet."

And then the flood gates opened and suddenly everyone was shouting at one another about which plan of attack they were going to take, with Mors and Notar violently disagreeing with everything the other would say whilst Taggo and Prydo tried to and express their own ideas through the shouting of the others. Oberyn could only watch on in disgust as they bickered like angry children. _Although I doubt even my daughters would squabble as badly as this lot._

But then something completely unexpected happened and Will rose from his seat and brought down a knife on the table with enough force to catch the others attention. Seeing that all eyes were on him now the young Stark straightened up and met the incoming stares of the other serjeants. "My lords it seems to me that there is yet another way that we have not discussed." He then pointed at the two green Cyvasse pieces on Myr and Lys. "We cannot hope to defeat the coalition of Tyroshi and sellsword armies at Myr, and the cost of engaging the fleet at Lys would be too great, so why not take on these painted bastards where they live?" he said fiercely, before pointing at the map once again.

"You mean launch an attack at Tyrosh itself?" asked Prydo skeptically.

"Precisely, the Tyroshi were obviously so greedy in their attempt to gain dominion over Myr and Lys that they've left a bare minimum of men to actually protect the city itself. If we can take the capitol before they have time to recall their forces then we can end this conflict swiftly." The young Wolf's eyes were now blazing with silver as spoke and Oberyn couldn't help but beam in pride.

"Tyrosh is a big place Tree-worshiper, and even if we could take it what's to stop the army from marching back and laying siege? Then we'd be trapped like rats as an army of thirty five thousand surrounded us." said Notar in his usual arrogant tone.

"But don't you see? If we capture the Archon and the other rulers and hold them ransom then the sellswords will abandon the Tyroshi cause with no more gold coming in. With their foreign friends gone they'll be severely outnumbered by the forces of Myr and Lys, they'd be removed from the game."

The entire table seemed to go quiet and chew on the news for a while, trying to think of any other alternatives. When none could be found and no one deemed to speak, Oberyn rose from his chair and looked at his serjeants. "Are we in agreement that Stark's plan is best course of action?"

It seemed unanimous and they all agreed that at first light on the morrow that they would plot a course for Tyrosh. And with that he bid them all off to make the arrangements while he walked back to the tents with Will.

"It's not an easy thing, getting that lot to agree about anything but you proved yourself in there. I'm proud of you." He said putting his hand on the young Stark's shoulder before walking off to his own tent, laughing to himself at how well everything had worked out.


	20. Fearful Symmetry

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: And here we are, a new chapter! Once again a huge big, great thanks to all those who followed, favorited and reviewed the story. It really does inspire me.**

It was the dead of night when the Serpents reached the shores of Tyrosh, with the entire fleet spreading itself about across the many small islands that made up the majority of the great city, effectively circling it and barring any possible escape attempts.

Will and Oberyn's ship set anchor just outside the shores of the central isle; home to the wealthiest and most powerful members of the Tyroshi society. The tide was with them and the majority of the city was asleep at this hour so the company managed to get on land with minimum fuss.

Will's heart was beating furiously in his chest as he and his men approached one of the great outer walls of the city; memories of Pyke and the dead Ironborn filled his head and made the wolfs blood surge in his veins. Perhaps some part of him was scared, some distant, far away part of his mind but that was buried underneath all the excitement and anger; all he had to do was remind himself of Storm's End and of Leonette Fossoway and all her false promises and he found himself almost _aching_ to feed his steel another man's blood.

Miraculously he managed to keep himself held in check as he and the Serpents made their way through the scrubby out growth the lay between the Tyroshi beach and the outer wall. When they finally made it to the wall they were met by a single figure standing out in the moonlight, leaning lazily against the great stone wall. Oberyn commanded for the men to stay hidden in the cover of the forest and gestured for Will to follow him onwards to the figure.

Will tried to discern the person in the gloom but could only make out the faintest glimpse of a golden hair underneath a hood. Will thumbed the hilt of his sword as they moved closer, unable to drop his guard, Oberyn however seemed to lack any caution as he approached the man, who in turn bowed.

"Welcome to Tyrosh my friends." said the hooded man with a laugh.

"Friend? Do I know you?" asked Will harshly.

"No, but I know you Ser Willam Stark of Winterfell." Laughed the man before throwing back his hood revealing long golden hair and a youthful unmarred face that was highlighted by piercing blue eyes. "Alystar Hill at your service."

"Alystar is our Master of Whispers." Cut in Oberyn as Will reluctantly shook hands with the blonde man. "Have the passageways been cleared for our entry?" he asked the spy with a greater sense of urgency.

"They have my prince, at this very moment my agents are across the isles awaiting the troops. We have made sure that all the secret ways into the city have been opened for the Serpents entry." replied Alystar in a confident tone.

"Good, if we can catch them unawares then there should be a minimum struggle." nodded Oberyn before gesturing for his men to come out of their hiding place.

Quickly the figures began to move out from the scrubs and hurried over towards the wall as Alystar pressed in on a loose stone causing something loud to click back in place and push a section of stone back revealing an open tunnel going down into the wall. Taking a torch from inside the tunnel he gestured for them to follow him down in the darkness, his glowing figure providing the only form of light they had.

The tunnel itself was wide enough to fit two men standing shoulder to shoulder so the men walked in two lines behind both Will and Oberyn as they quietly moved down through the winding pathway. Alystar would stop every so often and make sure that they were all following him, urging them to hurry along and not waste the night. _You try speeding up five hundred men walking through a single tunnel_ thought Will bitterly but held his tongue, careful not to offend their only way in and out of the city.

They continued on for some time until finally the spy stopped them up. "We are directly underneath the Archon's palace, so take care for there will be many men on guard between you and him."

Oberyn now turned around and faced the men all lined up in the tunnel. "The men on the right standing behind Ser Willam are to go with him and take the eastern half of the palace; the men on the left will follow me and advance from the west once both are secure we'll meet up. By the Gods be swift and be silent."

Alystar then pressed down on another loose stone and the familiar click came in place, opening up an exit. "This will lead you up into the inner garden of the Archon's palace, from there you should be able to directly head into his home through the dining hall."

Giving them a slight nod, Will and his men entered through the open path and lead them forward through darkness until they finally came upon an opening which let in a beam of moonlight to illuminate their way out into the thick plants of the Archon's garden.

As the men piled out they fought to move silently through the thick fernery and Will cursed under his breath how much they were advertising their presence. By now then were out of the worst of it but he could already hear the palace guards approaching in the disturbance. _Fuck it…_

Raising up his fist the men all stopped their advance at once and with one quick action Will turned and unsheathing his sword causing them to all do likewise and with a ferocious roar charged forward to the sound of the incoming guards and didn't need to look back to know that his men were right behind him.

Charging forward into the courtyard of the palace they were greeted by ten confused guards whom the Serpents quickly cut down before rushing forward through into the hallway. Like a horde of locusts they swarmed through the building, cutting down every guard they came across. However their rampage was temporarily stopped by the remaining collection of guards barring the doors of the great hall, leaving them cut off from the hallway to the Archon's chambers.

"We have to get this door open before they can get word to any other forces!" complained one man.

"Aye, but first we must find a make-shift battering ram." Replied Will as his eyes scanned across the great hall for any such item. "Men! We must needs something to get through this door, fan out and search for something, _anything,_ we can use to break it down."

With that several of the Serpents hurried off in search of something leaving Will and a handful of men to try and examine the doors, checking for any structural weakness. _No go, these bastards have barred the place up well…_

"Captain is there any other way around?" he asked whilst still inspecting the doors.

"No milord, this door is the only way that leads directly to the Archon's quarters."

"And no doubt it's all of his personal guard are waiting." Will grunted in annoyance.

"Would…would it not be wiser to wait for Prince Oberyn's forces milord?"

This caused Will to shift his gaze from the doors and look directly at his captain now. "The longer we wait we just give the Archon more time to send for help and alert the rest of Tyrosh. We do this now."

Suddenly he was greeted by a squire who came bursting into the room, red faced and out of breath "My…my lord, we have something to use as a ram. We found it in the gardens toppled over and…" but before the lad could finish several of the men came into the room carrying a large fallen tree.

"Gods…" said Will with a smile as the men brought the huge fallen thing in through the outer doors, leaving a trail of bright green leaves all over the tiled floor. The tree itself seemed to be in surprisingly good condition with considerable length needing five men on either side to help carry it, and it even had several limbs still attached.

"What do you think milord?" asked one of the men as he struggled to lay down the mighty object.

"I think after this you men will be living the good life." Replied Will with a laugh.

With the tree now lying in place on the floor of the Great Hall, the rest of the Serpents were called back into the room and helped turn the tree around so that the bottom was facing the door frame and Will unsheathed his sword and stood on a table so that they could all see him in the crowded room.

"Men, behind that door lays all of the Archon's personal guards, behind that door lays some of the finest killers Tyrosh has ever produced and after this day people will be talking of the Silver Serpents for years to come. Behind that door lays death, behind that door lays victory, behind that door lays our _DESTINY! NOW LET'S BRING THIS FUCKER DOWN!"_

And with a mighty roar from the men he leapt down and personally helped them lift the tree and grabbed hold of one of the branches to use as support. "We'll do it on the count of three. One...two…HEAVE!" and with that Will and the men charged forward with the great piece of wood and crashed it into the door, sending shocking waves through their bodies and rattling the door nearly off its hinges.

Regrouping, Will and the men picked up the tree and moved a few feet back and got ready to charge again. "HEAVE!" called out Will as they men went forward once again, this time sending a satisfying series of cracks through the door. _Nearly there_ thought Will as they picked up the tree for a final assault.

Invigorated by their progress, the men seemed to spring up as they grabbed the tree and moved back in place for another strike and charged, colliding into the door with the same impact of an angry elephant, bursting the door apart and sending the men forward into half a dozen honor guards that were too foolish to move away.

The Archon's protectors waited no time attacking the downed men as they struggled to pick themselves off the ground after the charge and more than a dozen of the Serpents were cut down without hesitation, sending Will into a deep rage.

Jumping to his feet the young Stark raced forward with a savage intensity, hacking his way through as many guard as he could within the confined space of the hallway. He saw the young squire, who had approached him earlier getting beaten down by a Tyroshi, the boy was feebly trying to fight off the more experienced warrior but fighting a losing battle, and with a mad dash Will ran forwards and swung his sword so hard that he cleaved the man's head straight from his shoulders.

Without sparing the boy a second glance Will moved forward and began cutting down all he could, vaguely aware that his men were progressing up the hallway, though at an extremely slow pace. _These fucking Tyroshi are more skilled than I thought…_

Memories of Pyke flooded his mind as he felt the familiar sensation of blood running down his face and neck into his armor, whether it from his enemies or his own mattered little as he felt himself get lost in the high of battle; feeling things slow to a crawl, all sounds and smells gone with only the man before him visible. Everything else was a blur, an unneeded distraction that could and would kill him.

_This is what I was made for _mused a voice in his head as he gutted a Tyroshi before moving on to strike at another and another until soon he was showered in the blood of the Archon's guards, a primeval growl emanating from him as he did so.

Soon the Serpents were closing the distance between the Tyroshi and the doors into the Archon's chambers, crushing them under the sheer amount of men attacking them and the fierceness of which they fought. Will made sure to amongst the thick of it, driven by the sheer amount of savagery and rage that had been bottled up since before he left Westeros. It was not the Tyroshi he was fighting, it was Garlan Tyrell, Renly Baratheon, Jorah Mormont, and he was killing them all over and over again until he could barely lift his arms, with only his blind hatred to keep him pressing on.

He could see the door, not five paces from where stood but before he could advance he felt something zip along his face and suddenly there was blood in his eyes and something sharp sticking into his side. Instinctively he grabbed at the object with one mailed glove and swung his sword in that direction, the agonizing wail of his attacker greeting him. Wiping away the blood that had filled his eyes Will saw that he had a spear head stuck in the joints of his armor and with a struggle pulled it out before finally advancing once again, he and his men now at the doors with only a handful of guards left to defend it but soon they too were cut down leaving the path clear to the Archon's chamber.

The Serpents searched through the rooms and quickly brought the struggling Archon out on his knees before Will. The Archon had the typical Tyroshi look; with vibrant green and blue hair with a forked beard of deep purple. Despite being slightly beaten and brought to kneel before a foreign invader while still in his nightclothes, the man had a deep sense of pride and arrogance about him and the look he gave Will was one of supreme disgust.

"Well, the mighty Archon of Tyrosh and '_king'_ of the Disputed land. How's that been working out so far?" asked Will smugly.

"You will die for this you cowardly pig!" shouted the Archon in a thickly accented voice.

Before Will could respond Oberyn and his men burst into the room along with several men in chains. The Viper had a mischievous grin on his olive face and he stared down at the kneeling Archon with a predatory look.

"How are feeling today your majesty? Do you like the party we threw for you? We even brought some of your friends." And with a click of his fingers three men in chains were thrown at the Archon's feet. "You recognize the grand treasurer, the master of laws and the master of ships don't you?"

"I will have your genitals fed to my dogs for this you Rhoynish filth!" barked out the Archon as he struggled to break free of his captors.

"Flattery will get you nowhere my lord." He said with a bitter laugh before his Viper's eyes burned intensely on the Tyroshi. "You and your fellow council members will write letters to the armies at Lys and Myr telling them of your formal surrender and relinquishment of the disputed lands."

"Never!" said the Archon before spitting directly in Oberyn's face. "Go ahead, kill me! Any of one of our nobles will take my place!"

Oberyn wiped away the spit absently before suddenly stamping down hard on the Archon's groin and kneeling down beside the crumbled and sobbing figure. "My army has every single one of your nobles in captivity just as we have you, _my lord._ Now you will sign these letters or I will have them execute each and every one of you painted bastards and send your heads to the armies instead!"

Somehow despite all that the Tyroshi still managed to refuse, violently shaking his head even as lay in agony. "Fuck you…. you sons of whores." He said weakly.

Oberyn now rose to his feet and was quiet for a moment before making a face and sighing in defeat. "Well….I suppose if you don't care about your life then there's really no point in talking to you is there? Perhaps your children will be better conversationalists." And with a swift gesture Taggo walked in with three small children who were crying in terror at what was going on around them. The oldest was a boy of ten while the two younger siblings were girls no older than Arya.

_Gods be good, what is he doing!_ thought Will, suddenly becoming more worried as he watched the children be seated on the ground before their father, sniffling in terror as they clung to each other. Oberyn rested a hand on the boy's shoulder as he glared at the Archon, all humor leaving his face. "You will sign, or your children will die. It's that simple."

The Archon began to sob and reached out for his children, unable to get to them while in the firm grip of his captors. "Please….Please have mercy… they are just children, innocent of all of this." He pleaded miserably.

"How many innocent Lyseni and Myrish children died and would still die because of your actions? Sign the letters, or else take a final look at your children."

For a long tense moment everyone in the room held their breath as they waited for the Archon to respond, but finally a long tense moment he broke into a series of loud sobs and started nodding his head. "Yes, yes I'll sign but please….don't hurt my children please!"

* * *

Oberyn laughed bitterly at that. "So it seems you do have some shred of selflessness after all."

After Oberyn had the nobles all sign declarations of submission he then had them sent off to the Tyroshi battle commanders besieging Myr and Lys with instructions to throw down their arms and fall back. While they waited for a response the Serpents had control of all Tyrosh, not an easy feat but not one they had to perform for long as several ravens came in with news from the armies; the fleet at Lys had ended its siege and was sailing to a neutral area as the Lyseni diplomats came to make terms with the Tyroshi. The sellswords under the Tyroshi employ reacted as expected and broke their contract, leading to infighting and dissention amongst the ranks which the Myrish forces were able push back with ease.

The Lyseni and Myrish diplomats arrived by the week's end and proper terms were made under the supervision of Oberyn and his serjeants, Will included. The whole affair was long and drawn out with each side wanting majority but Oberyn managed to come up with terms that they all agreed on; Tyroshi would pay both Myr and Lys a sum of two million sovereigns each as restitution for the war and as a display of their submission and to ensure that the Tyroshi would not raise arms again, the children of the Archon would be wards of the Lyseni and Myrish nobility until they came of age.

All of the talk of hostages made Will think of the Greyjoy children, of Theon at Winterfell and his life as an outsider amongst them and what Oberyn was condemning these children to. Eventually he found that he couldn't stomach it much longer and left the meeting in anger.

"Will! Wait a moment!" called out Oberyn as he ran up to the young Stark. "I understand your discomfort with these matters but it's something that must be done."

"There was no need to get the children involved." Bristled Will.

Oberyn winced slightly at that but to his credit did not avoid Will's glare. "I don't like it any better than you do, but it was necessary to put an end to the conflict."

"And what of the children, are we just to throw them to the dogs? What makes us any better than the Lannisters?" shouted Will, his fists clenched in anger.

Oberyn's eyes lit up with a deep seeded rage and for a moment Will was almost certain that the Viper would tear his throat out but then his rage seemed to simmer to a slightly less hostile level. "I wouldn't have allowed any harm to have come to those children and I'll make damned sure that they're treated gently in Lys and Myr, You have my word on that, on my sister's name I swear it."

Will could only let out a defeated sigh and suddenly he felt extremely tired after all the recent events. Oberyn must have noticed and put his hand on Will's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We saved hundreds of thousands by doing this Will, and thanks to your plan most of our men will be able to see tomorrow. We spared the disputed lands the agony of a long and brutal war, this was a win."

"Then why doesn't it feel like it ?"


	21. Duty

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Here we are, another chapter. Once again thanks to all who reviewed, followed and favorited the story, it means a lot!**

The Lyseni were more than pleased by the job the Serpents had done with ending the Tyroshi threat and readily paid the company the sum they had promised as well as giving each member their own personal trained whore to warm their beds at night, Will included. However the young Stark found himself continuously plagued with doubts over his actions in Tyrosh and he found that there was little that could ease his guilt, whether it be in the willing arms of the Lyseni woman sharing his bed every night or at the bottom of the many horns of ale he consumed.

One particular morning of such indulgences Will awoke to find the dark eyes of Oberyn Martell staring at him from a chair across the room, a look of deep contemplation on his face as he watched Will startle awake and sit upright in his bed.

"What are you doing here Oberyn? It's much too early for any snake tricks…" he complained tiredly.

"Looks like you've been showing this lovely lady a snake trick of your own." Replied the Viper grinning slightly as he gestured to the whore sleeping comfortably beside the young Stark.

Will cracked a smile at that as he gently removed a stray lock of silver gold hair from her face. "Ah yes well, Serena is amazingly flexible when she wants to be."

"Oh I'm sure she is, but none of her skills seem to be removing that cold look from your eyes, and judging from the mass colony of wine skins lying about the room neither has the drink."

"Have you come to discuss my drinking habits?" asked Will irritably.

"No, I've come to tell you that you're on a slippery slope my friend." He said sternly. "You're trying to drown your sorrows in whatever way you can and soon you'll not only become a danger to yourself but to the men out there and I can't have that."

Will was about to protest but the look on Oberyn's face told him that now was not the time to debate with the Viper as he continued.

"You're a good soldier Will, and an even better leader, you have the men's trust and mine….don't throw that away. That's why I'm giving you a sabbatical to get your head clear." said Oberyn as he rose to leave the room.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Will suddenly asked.

Oberyn was just about to leave when he turned and gave Will a long and decisive look. "If you are so guilt ridden over lost children then perhaps you should try and help the two that _can_ you save."

* * *

Will left Braavos the following day, gaining transport on a merchant ship that brought him to Pentos without much fuss and he made sure to pay the captain a healthy amount of gold dragons for his troubles and proceeded to make his way to Oberyn's manse.

The city was relatively quiet compared to his last visit, yet Will was certain that there was still a multitude of spies watching his movements as he rode through the streets; he could only hope that Alystar's own agents were keeping track of his whereabouts in case he found himself in any form of trouble in the rats' nest that he was in.

As Will entered the manse he was greeted by a number of the men he had stationed there as well as the two Targaryen children watching him curiously as he dismounted. Viserys immediately approached him with an outstretched hand which Will accepted with a smile.

"Ser Willam, welcome back." said Viserys in an enthusiastic voice, his lilac eyes beaming.

"It's good to be back your grace." replied Will giving a bow. "I trust the manse has been to your liking?"

"It has, and your kindness won't be forgotten either when the time comes for me to take my throne, I will ensure that you have a place at my side."

Will nodded absently before looking over to the boy's sister and bent down and kissed the back of her hand. "Princess Daenarys, you grow more radiant every day." he said sincerely, causing the girl to blush furiously before muttering thanks in the quiet voice of hers.

"Was your business successful?" asked Viserys curiously, watching Will's face closely.

Will had not exactly told the children what his employment _was_ specifically, only that he often had to help sort of disputes across the free cities, though he was sure that Viserys suspected that he was a sellsword of some kind, however he never outright said anything about it. _He's probably afraid I'll kick him and his sister out into the streets…_

"Fairly." He said with deliberate vagueness, before suddenly recalling something and signaling to his servants to bring forth one of the chests he had carried with him. "I have something for the two of you."

Hurrying forward two of his personal guards heaved over a large chest which they unceremoniously dropped on the ground beside Will's feet. The two siblings eyed off the chest closely, unsure of what their northern benefactor had planned.

Slowly he removed his first gift from the chest and gently held it out to Daenarys, careful not to crease the fabric. "Myrish silk." He said of the purple dress as he gave it to the princess.

Daenarys seemed amazed at the sight of her gift and was silent for a few moments before looking up at Will with her bright purple eyes and smiled. "It is very beautiful, thank you Ser."

"You're very welcome." He said with a smile.

"And what about _my_ gift?" asked Viserys impatiently.

Will laughed off the boy's rudeness and went about removing the second item he had brought back: a long sword made of finely serrated steel with a dragon bone hilt and pommel carved into the shape of a roaring dragon.

Viserys was stunned as Will handed out the weapon to him, his lilac eyes scanning every inch of the blade and saving it into his memory. Finally after a few minutes he took the sword and gripped it hard, feeling the weight of it as he swung about without regard, causing the others to move back.

"Have you ever been taught the arts of war your grace?"

Will's question had caught the boy off guard and he began muttering various excuses before the Stark stopped him up. "It's completely understandable, I'm sure there's been little time for such things with hired assassins chasing you from place to place but if you want I would be very happy to teach you."

Viserys looked up at him hopefully now. "You would?"

"Aye, I'll have the servants bring you some padded armor and then we'll meet in the training yard in an hour."

* * *

Viserys as it turned out was a worse swordsman than Will originally thought; the boy was quite slim from his lack of food from his years begging, and he wielded the wooden sword more like an axe than a precise weapon, but the day was young and Will had plenty of time to teach him.

"You see, you must hold the sword as if it is a part of you; not too firm or too light, just enough so that you have a grip." Will explained as he rearranged the boy's fingers in the correct place around the handle. "Now, I want you to try and strike me." He said standing back in his position.

Viserys looked at the sword and then at Will and came at him, swinging as fast and hard as he could. All of which were deflected by Will with relative ease, causing the boy to lose his temper and swing even more furiously and while the boy's blows had little strength behind them they were fairly fast and Will found that he had to exert himself a little bit more than he expected.

Finally the boy tired and stopped his barrage, the both of them breathing heavily. Will smiled and patted the boy on the back. "You did well."

"Well? I didn't even hit you!" he snapped, his purple eyes alight.

"Aye, but you managed to tire me out. What you lack in strength you make up in speed, I'll make a warrior of you yet." explained Will trying his best to encourage the lad.

"Could I ever be as good as Rhaegar?" asked the boy hopefully.

"If you set your mind to it and practice every day then aye, I think you could."

"Good, then I'd personally take the heads of the Usurper and all his dogs." He said fierce tone.

Something about the way the boy said 'dogs' made Will feel uneasy; he had no doubt that Viserys was talking about the Starks as well as the Lannisters. _When the time is right I will tell him of my true identity, when he is ready._

"It takes more than skills in combat to be a good king." He said after a time.

Viserys looked up at him in confusion. "But my family is the blood of Old Valyria, we are conquerors."

"Not all. Do you remember king Jaehaerys the conciliator, he who ended the war with the Faith militant? Or king Daeron the Good? He was no warrior at all and he brought the seven Kingdoms peace and prosperity during his reign."

Viserys made a face and continued. "Even so, I would still see the heads of all of those lords and their bannermen adorning the walls of the Red Keep."

"Bannermen are bound to do as their liege lord bid them. Most had little choice when being forced to war." Replied Will diplomatically.

"Yet they still went! They still went to war against my father!" snarled Viserys, his nostrils flaring.

"Aye, but when given the choice of your death tomorrow or the death of your family today then the option is clear….things are never as simple as they seem." He said sadly.

"But should a king not punish those who obey him?" asked Viserys skeptically.

"A king should be fair in all things. He should be unyielding to those who truly deserve it, but also faithful to his people's needs."

Viserys snorted at that. "Why should the Dragon serve mice?"

"Is the Dragon not the greatest of beasts? Is he not the strongest? Then it is his duty to use that strength to protect his people, to keep them safe and to keep them happy." He paused briefly to look into the boys lilac eyes. "When you live up to your title, when you become protector of the realm then its people will love you, and with that love you will be far more powerful than any other. Understand?"

Viserys looked at his feet for a long time and finally nodded. "Yes, I think I do."

* * *

After the day's training Will decided not to sup with the Targaryens and instead took to the solitude of his chambers, his thoughts now of home. He often wondered about how things were going back at Winterfell, how his family was doing but such thoughts only brought pain. _In Winterfell I would be restricted by my birth, here I can actually achieve something…_

He entertained the thought of writing to them but quickly dismissed it; Ned wouldn't stand his brother travelling about Essos fighting other men's wars. He honestly couldn't be sure if his brother had sent anyone to find him, though he knew they'd never track him down, he had never spoken to anyone of his friendship with Oberyn Martell and he had left Storm's End in the dead of night and rode as far as he could so as to not be followed. _No doubt Oberyn is keeping my role in his company away from the eyes and ears of Westeros…._

He tried reading a little but found that his mind was too preoccupied, all the musings of his family was making him feel melancholy and slightly anxious. _The perfect time to play some music_ he thought as he went over to harp sitting beside his window.

Getting in place he gently began about plucking the strings and deftly moving his fingers about as he felt the familiar feeling of rhythm begin to carry him as he recalled the time Rhaegar had sung for him and Lyanna during the Tourney of Harrenhall. _His voice was haunting, and …sad. Was Lyanna the only one who could make him happy? _ Such thoughts occasionally plagued the young Stark whenever his sister's death was mentioned and it never failed to tear at his heart just a little.

Suddenly he heard the door creak open and he immediately stopped to see young Daenarys staring at him with those bright purple eyes of hers, full of curiosity but also fear oddly enough. "Forgive me Ser, I-I did not mean to disturb you." She stuttered.

"It's quite alright princess, I could do with a bit of company." He said gesturing for her to come in.

"You play beautifully." She said meekly, keeping her eyes downcast as if afraid she might have said something offensive.

"Thank you, though I'm nothing compared to Rhaegar; he was truly blessed with the gift of music."

The girl was silent for a long time, seemingly trying to balance the pros and cons of speaking before finally she asked "What was he like?"

Will smiled at her and then went about trying to sum up in words the man who had changed his and his family's life. "He was….an old soul. No older than five and twenty when I met him but he already seemed as if he had lived for hundreds of years, and his voice carried a certain weight, it was soft, but when he spoke you couldn't help but listen to him, really _listen_. He was the kind of person that only comes about once in a lifetime."

The little princess sat transfixed, hanging off of every word, her Valyrian features almost making her illuminate in the darkened room.

"Why did he have to die?" she asked after a time.

Will was stunned by the child's question and thought of saying something like 'because the Gods willed it' or some other childish answer but for some reason he felt that this girl, this innocent child who's whole life of misery has been determined by the actions of people older and far more guiltier than her , deserved more.

"Rhaegar died because he loved the wrong woman." He said sadly, tracing his finger along the wolf carvings on his harp.

"That's not fair." replied Daenarys.

"Oh sweetling, there is much in life that is unfair." He said, thinking of the woman who he couldn't be with and the family he had left behind.


	22. Playing with Fire

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: As always a big thank you to all those who followed, favorited and reviewed the story. It really keeps me engaged. :)**

The heat in Pentos was ungodly. Due to Essos being further away from the great lands of always winter it was quite warmer the Westeros, even during winter years. However in long summers such as the one the world was experiencing now the eastern continent truly warmed up, something a northerner like Will had not found easy to adapt to.

On one such afternoon of unbearable heat Will decided to indulge in a childhood fantasy and swim in the ocean, something that had been impossible to do in the North. He rode out by himself while the children were at their studies with the new tutor he had hired, and made sure that all of his guards remained behind to ensure the protection of the siblings, and also because he sought solitude.

He was mostly undisturbed as he rode out of the city to the beaches on the coast of Pentos and was able to drop his guard as he hitched his horse to a tree and slowly stripped himself of his riding gear and walked towards the water, the sand feeling lovely under his feet.

Will was in heaven as he submerged himself in the cool sea water, all of his recent troubles forgotten as the motion of the waves gently swayed him in an almost nurturing way. He swam about for a time before deciding that he was sufficiently refreshed for the day and made his way back to the shore. He stood on the beach for a moment and let the sun's unyielding rays dry him a little before he went over and put on his breeches.

As he went to gather the rest of his clothes he suddenly felt something brush past his bare foot and he immediately went still as he saw a brightly colored snake raise its head and eye him off curiously, its body not six inches from Will's own. The creature was a bright red with splotches of yellow running along its body, its eyes twin beads of darkness that were locked on Will's form and the young Stark's left hand twitched slightly at the memory of his last snake encounter. _Why is it that they all want a taste of me?_

Will was suddenly aware of how truly vulnerable he was in this situation, he had no weapons or anything to strike the creature with and he was so close that even the slightest movement might alarm the creature into attacking and to top it off he was semi naked. _And here I thought today was going to be different…_

Will focused his gaze at his reptilian nemesis and decided that he was going to have to risk being bitten and crush its tiny head in with his bare hands. _Then everyone'll call me Willam Snakesbane_ thought Will with a slight smile as he clenched his fist.

The snake had picked up on Will's agitation and now bore its fangs and reared up to strike. Will knew that it was now or never yet just as the creature went to move a slender hand reached out and caught the serpent by the head and stopping its attack.

Will looked over in shock at the woman who now held the wriggling creature. She looked roughly Will's age, with olive skin and straight black hair that was pulled back into a long braid. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, large and lustrous and seemed to contain some hidden amusement, as if she were privy to some hilarious joke and her full lips where shaped in a silken smile.

"It's an extremely deadly beast." She said with a smirk. "And the Snake's not bad either."

It took Will a moment to fully comprehend what she was saying but then he looked down and noticed that his breeches where undone and went a deep scarlet as he haphazardly tied them back up, embarrassment washing over him.

"Uh…thank you for the help, things were about to turn nasty there." He said trying to change the subject.

"It was nothing. I've a talent when it comes to these little ones." She said casually as the serpent continued to writhe about in her grasp, desperately trying to move its head so that it could bite her.

Will couldn't help but be entranced by the woman's beauty as she looked nonchalantly at the venomous creature in her hands. Her dark eyes lovingly roaming across the reptiles form with a sense of deep familiarity as though the creature was an old friend. She gently placed a kiss on its scaly hide before suddenly twisting the serpent's neck in a motion so fast that Will actually flinched.

"Well, there's nothing to worry about now." She said somewhat sadly before looking over at Will with a mischievous grin. "I take it that you can manage without my help?"

"Oh, uh…yes, yes I'll be fine. What about you my lady? Do you need a ride?" he asked, trying to sound as chivalrous as he could.

The woman merely laughed at that, a sound that was equal parts mocking and musical. "Not the kind you're talking about." She said with a wink instantly disarming Will and making him feel like a boy once again.

"Well, at the very least may I ask for your name my lady?" he asked suddenly.

"Hmmm perhaps another time Ser Wolf." She said with a predatory smile before walking off along the beach, leaving Will to marvel at the mysterious figure as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance. _Well, perhaps my luck is changing after all…_

* * *

Will couldn't stop thinking about the mysterious woman he met on the beach, even as he rode into the streets of Pentos and entered his manse he couldn't help but picture the woman over and over in his head. _Perhaps I'll write a song about her_ he thought as he entered his chambers.

He had just sat down and ran his hand over his harp when suddenly he was torn from his daydreaming by the sound of a mild cough. Turning around he was faced by the familiar hooded form of Alystar Hill standing in the corner of his room, with a polite smile on his face.

"What in the name of the Gods are _you_ doing here?" he asked sharply, annoyed by the man's intrusion of his private space.

Alystar gave an expression of faux hurt before walking over and pulling up a seat beside Will. "Well hello to you too Stark. How's your sabbatical been treating you?" he asked mildly.

Will shrugged. "It's done wonders for my tan but other than that there's little that would interest the Serpents, so I must ask again what are you doing here?"

Alystar smiled at that, his blue eyes gleaming. "It seems that since our company's glorious victory over the Tyroshi we've found ourselves enjoying a little down time and prince Oberyn in his wisdom thought that my talents would be better served with you."

"Why would I need a spymaster during my sabbatical?" asked Will in confusion.

Alystar laughed at that, a short mocking bark of amusement. "Who _doesn't _need a spymaster? Information is power Ser Willam, the more you know the stronger you are." He paused and then looked at Will with a devilish smile. "Would you like to know how your family is faring back in Westeros?"

That managed to get Will's attention. "You…know how they are?" he asked weakly.

Alystar's smile grew wider. "Indeed I do. It seems that after you took flight from Storm's End it took Lord Baratheon two days to finally muster his men and post searching parties for you, but of course since you were already on your way to Sunspear at the time they weren't able to find a trace of you and quickly assumed that you had died during one of the more aggressive storms and that your body had washed out to sea. Personally I believe Renly's efforts were quite disingenuous. "

Will sat in stunned silence as he took in what the spymaster was saying, dozens of thoughts plagued him. _Is that what the great lords think of me now? A fool who walked off a cliff? Damn Renly fucking Baratheon, no doubt he was doing this to appease those bloody Tyrells. _Shaking his thoughts off he gestured for Alystar to continue.

"While most of the lords of the Reach and Stormlands seemed to believe the story readily enough, your northern companions wouldn't have it and returned to your brother. Lord Eddard was none too pleased by the thought of having another dead sibling so he sent men out across the seven kingdoms to try and find you, he even sent a few men here in the Free Cities, though they were clearly out of their element. I dealt with them easily enough."

That had spiked Will's anger. "You better not have hurt any of my countrymen Alystar or not even the Viper himself will be able to protect you."

Alystar to his raised his hands in peace. "I swear on my mother's soul that I did not harm them, though a healthy dose of misinformation may have been spread." He said cheekily.

"So no one is aware that I'm under Oberyn's employ?" asked Will cautiously.

"Not a soul. I have made sure of that, though you may have to accept that the world at large believes you dead."

Will nodded grimly at that and his thoughts turned to Ned and Benjen. His brothers were no doubt going through great pain at the thought of losing another sibling and Will felt a pang of guilt, but he quickly brushed it aside. There was no room for doubt in his life now.

An awkward silence fell over the pair for a time until Alystar suddenly perked up and removed a letter from within his robes. "Prince Oberyn was invited to the name day celebration for one of the nobles of this fair city, and has deemed that the _custodian_ of his manse, uh that's you, will go in his place."

Will took the invitation and quickly read over it to confirm the Spymaster's story. "Why does he want me to go?" he asked in confusion.

"I know not. Only that you are to attend and represent him on the occasion."

Will pinched the ridge of his nose in frustration before relenting. "Alright I'll go and mingle with the Cheesemongers. When is this bloody thing anyway?"

Alystar laughed merrily at that. "Tonight."

* * *

Despite the lack of preparation Will had managed to get himself ready for the festivity in a relatively short amount of time and had left by nightfall. The invitation that Alystar had given him contained an orange ribbon that marked him as one of the guests and granted him entry into the noble's manse.

When he walked into the grand manse he was surprised by the sheer size of the place; it was easily three times the size of Oberyn's and much more elaborately decorated, with colorful lanterns hanging all about the exterior garden, which was itself full of various guests casually discussing whatever small talk they deigned to indulge in.

Will walked about the gardens feeling slightly awkward and out of place and grabbed the first cup of wine that passed by. He continued to stand about unsure of himself until he heard a familiar mocking laugh and his eyes widened in surprise as the woman from the beach walked up beside him and gave him an alluring smile.

""No friends tonight Ser Wolf?" she asked with a challenging laugh.

Will drank in her form like water to a man lost in the desert. Her hair much like it was when he last saw her; tied back into a long braid giving her a distinctive widows peak. She was dressed in tight fitting silks the color of deep scarlet that hugged her form exquisitely in all the right places.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage my lady, you know my name but I haven't the _pleasure_ of yours yet." He said with a smirk.

The scarlet woman looked like she was about to respond when suddenly a fat bearded man called out from the doorway to all the guests in the garden that the dance was about to begin within the great hall and that he would like all to come in and join.

"I take it that is our loveable host?" asked Will as he watched the fat man hobble inside with two young women around his arms.

"Indeed. Shall we indulge him Ser Wolf?" she said holding out one of her delicate hands to Will, which he took with a smile, leading her into the manse.

The inside of the building was essentially a palace, with grand statues of ancient Valyrian dragonlords adorning every corner of the great hall, likewise the ceiling was painted in the likeness of some old Valyrian God . Will wasn't one for art and it seemed neither was his companion.

"Look at all this." She said gesturing about in disgust. "Why is it that these people are so obsessed with Valyria? Personally I think they're overcompensating."

Will had to laugh at that. "You have a lewd mind my lady….I like it." He said flashing her wolfish grin.

Taking his wine glass from his hand and setting it down by a bench the scarlet woman lead Will off. "Come," she said "A party without dancing is not a party worth attending." And with that they were suddenly moving to the rhythm of the slow Pentoshi music, and Will found that he couldn't help but get lost in his partners dark eyes, there was something about them that was vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Whatever it was Will felt a stirring of something deep inside himself when he looked at this woman, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"You really should tell me your name." said Will suddenly, his jovial armor gone.

"Names would just ruin it. Why can't we just enjoy each other's company?" she replied, shocked at his sudden sincerity.

"Will I see you after tonight?"

She looked at him curiously now, as if trying to find some hidden motive behind his actions. Her eyes glistened for a moment and then she was back to her usual confident nature. "How about _this_…" she said leaning in close until he felt her breath brush his lips. His eyes closed and his hand tightened on her hip in response. He vaguely felt her fingers wrap in the dark fabric of his top, and she pulled him closer, sharply. His mouth opened for her eagerly and their tongues met, hungrily exploring each other. She tasted of spice and cinnamon and fire. _Gods she's like wildfire…_

But before he knew it the feeling was gone and she quickly pulled away from him, breathing heavily with a slight blush on her face. Will took a step closer but she held up a hand to stop him before giving him a mischievous wink before quickly turning away and disappearing in the crowd before Will could follow her.

He stood there amidst the other dancing pairs trying to get his bearings back as his head and heart swam with emotion when suddenly he was pulled aside by one of the servants. He was about to protest until he say who it was that grabbed him.

"What are you doing here Alystar?" he asked irritably

The Spymaster was dressed in servant's attire tonight, with the same grey robes that the rest of the Noble's servants wore, with his golden hair dyed a dull brown. _No doubt he'll be able to pass in and out unnoticed _mused Will as he looked at the man skeptically.

The spymaster rolled his eyes and then pointed over to a tall man with the silver blonde hair who was laughing at some joke. "That is MaegonTyberyan; he is one of the noblest families of Volantis and controls a great deal of the spices going in and out of that city, some of which he has often traded to Doran Martell. I have word from Prince Oberyn that you are to make contact with the man and let him know that the Serpents accept his proposal; you simply say that and walk away."

Will sighed deeply but did as he was told and walked over to the Volantian; his mind however was still on that mysterious woman who tasted of fire.


	23. The Stolen Ones

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!**

**A/N: Here we are, another chapter. Once again thanks to all those who followed, favorited and reviewed the story, it means a lot.**

Will had done as he was bid and had passed the Viper's message onto the old Volantian noble, who merely gave the young Stark a stiff nod and returned to his conversation with the other party guests. Afterwards Will walked about the manse in search of the mysterious woman who had captured his heart and intoxicated his senses. His efforts however were in vain and he could find no trace of her, and it wasn't until Alystar came to collect him that he truly gave up.

The spymaster had shrugged when Will asked him what he knew of the woman, he simply told the young Stark "There were many women here tonight." and would speak no more on the subject.

When they finally returned to the manse it was approaching midnight and Will made sure that he did not wake the children as he entered, whilst Alystar seemed to evaporate into the shadows no doubt going back to whatever secret chamber that he was currently calling home.

Will slept fitfully that night, his mind racing with thoughts and possibilities and his blood burning the memory of the woman. What little sleep he did manage didn't last long and he was up by the crack of dawn and went down to the main hall, sitting alone at the large table and breaking his fast on a collection of fruit that the servants had prepared for him.

He sat in silence for a time, mechanically eating his meal whilst his thoughts drifted away, enjoying the simplicity of it all and the peace he had found. After a while he was greeted by Daenarys who took a seat beside him and had a similar meal of fruit.

"Have you ever been to Kings landing Ser Willam?" she asked suddenly, looking up at him with her bright purple eyes.

"Yes, a few times princess, when I was a boy."

"Did you ever see the Red Keep?" she asked hopefully.

He smiled apologetically at her. "No I'm afraid I never had that honor."

Daenarys made a face. "Viserys said that there were real dragon skulls in the throne room."

"Aye, while I never saw them myself I have known others who have seen them, huge black things of frightening size." He told her, watching as her face lit up at that before happily returning to her breakfast and it wasn't much longer when Viserys deigned to join them, eager to begin another day's practice with Will in the yard.

The young prince had worked hard since Will had taken him under his wing and already he was proving to be a fierce little opponent, quick with a blade and light on his feet, his improvement had been so good that Will couldn't help but feel a great swell of pride for the boy.

"Make sure that you keep moving, you'll be a harder target that way." instructed Will as he swung his wooden sword in Viserys direction. "You'll never be a large man, but if you can tire your opponent out then you'll be able to use their size against them."

He was about to show the prince one of the maneuvers Ser Rodrick had taught him when suddenly he caught sight of Alystar watching him from the balcony. _What could he want?_

"I think we should wrap things up early today your grace, I'm afraid I have errands that need to be attended." He told the boy apologetically, he could see Viserys was about to argue so he quickly cut him off before he could speak. "I have a few books I brought back from my last journey about the young Dragon's conquest of Dorne sitting in the library for you, why don't you give them a read?" Viserys seemed to perk up at that and practically skipped off from the courtyard as Will starred at the spymaster watching from the balcony.

Alystar quickly descended to the courtyard once Viserys had left and practically hovered over to Will from under all of his robes, a sickening smile on his face. The spymaster placed a hand on Will's shoulder and continued to give him that same unnerving grin all the while. _He wants you to feel uncomfortable _realized Will suddenly. _He keeps others put off so that he has the upper hand in these matters…_

Grabbing his hand and firmly removing it from his shoulder Will gave him an irritable look. "What do you want now? Has Oberyn some other meager task for me?"

That seemed to get a small giggle from him. "It's best if we take this matter into your chambers, away from any _prying_ eyes." And With a deep sigh Will nodded and walked with the spymaster back into his chambers.

As soon as he entered his rooms he knew that something was off; his study was in disarray, with numerous books and maps lying opened on his table and he immediately gave the dagger at his side a brush to reassure himself that it was still there, but his fears were swiftly gone as he saw Oberyn flicking through one particularly large and dusted book.

"Can't trust your pet to keep an eye on me?" bristled Will.

"Quite the opposite, Alystar has been telling me that you've been doing exceptionally well and I trust him on this. I trust _you_ on this." He said looking up with a genuine smile.

"Then….why are you here?" asked Will, taken aback.

Oberyn sighed and placed his book down on the table. "I need your help."

"I'm on sabbatical."

Oberyn raised his hands diplomatically. "What I'm asking of you isn't another war, in fact if you do this right no one need die and you might just save an innocent life."

Will stared long and hard at Martell, checking for any semblance of a lie. He wouldn't admit it aloud but the Viper's words had intrigued him and when found no hint of deception he gestured for Oberyn to continue.

"Last night you delivered a message to a Volantian noble named Maegon Tyberyan. This man is an old friend of my brother's and someone whom I know to be honorable. I received a raven from him, just over a week ago begging me for help, one of the most powerful men in Essos and he was _begging_ me." Oberyn paused and a look passed over his face as he began to visualize something in his head. "His daughter has been kidnapped. By who he did not say, but what he did tell me was that she is only six years old and has been gone for over two weeks, the man is desperate for our help and I was in no position to deny him, as friend, and as a _father_."

Will remained fixed in his spot as he watched Oberyn suddenly become more human than he had ever seen from the man, a vulnerability that was almost never there. After a moment of silence Will shifted his weight uncomfortably and asked "Why do you need me for this?"

Alystar stepped forward now between the mentor and protégé, his voice slows as if explaining to a child. "The politics of Volantis are…most sensitive and Lord Tyberyan, as one of the few whose blood can be traced back directly to the Valyrian freehold, is up for election as one of the Triachs of the city. He cannot afford to be seen as weak by his rivals, and thus we cannot go in with hundreds of men and scour the city for one little girl."

"There can only be a few that are allowed to know of this situation Will and I trust you over most. Please I ask that you accompany me to Volantis and sort this mess out." Said Oberyn in the closest thing to pleading he could approximate.

Will stared at the two men standing before him and then raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, when do we leave?"

* * *

The three companions arrived in Volantis five days later and were swiftly escorted from their ship into a wheel house which then led them through a series of winding streets and sharp turns, leaving them unable to get any basic sense of which direction they were going. Oberyn had told them it was because lord Tyberyan mistrusted strangers, even those who were the companions of his friends.

On their way through the massive city Oberyn had begun to inform Will all about the proper protocol once they arrived at Tyberyan's palace. Will was himself the son of a great House so he argued that he didn't need any lessons on manners but Oberyn had quickly told him otherwise. "These Volantians have very particular ways about them and the nobles are even worse, even the smallest gesture may offend them."

So Will was to remain silent at all times once they entered the section of the city that belonged to the nobles, moving as a shadow to Oberyn and Alystar. He was surprised by how well the nobles of Volantis lived compared to those not of the blood of old Valyria; a great massive black wall separated the nobles from the rest of Volantis and it seemed each and every lord had a manse that almost doubled Oberyn's own Pentoshi home, and none seemed more decorative and frivolous than lord Tyberyan's palace.

The entrance of the place was carved into the shape of two fierce dragons that were locked in combat with their claws and talons ensnaring each other with a small gap that laid between the two beast's jaws serving as the door into the palace.

Several large men stood guard about the hallway, with more than a few of them brandishing crossbows. It wasn't long when a servant appeared and led the trio up the many stairways and into Tyberyan's seemed to be a silent level of understanding between the servants, guards and Oberyn and Alystar, it made Will feel as though he was being excluded despite how childish the idea was to him.

Tyberyan was standing right at the door as they were let in and right away he embraced Oberyn in a friendly hug and barely acknowledged Will and Alystar. "Thank you for coming Oberyn, you're the only one I can count on." He said wearily as he gestured for them to take a seat over at his large table, which was much like the outside of the building, covered in dragon engravings.

"Please, it was no trouble my friend. I know if it was any of my daughters I'd go to the ends of the world to get them back." said Oberyn as he sat down across from the Volantian. "But you must tell me everything you know before I can help."

Tyberyan let out a deep sigh and seemed to shrink back into his chair, deflated. His face, which Will had briefly thought as being blessed by the Valyrian beauty now seemed to have withered with worry and doubt, his silver gold hair seemed to have lost some of its luster and his once vibrant lilac eyes were now dull with grief and marred by large bags that sat ruefully underneath. _He's been broken _thought Will suddenly.

"It was two weeks ago. Nataerys was out riding with my son Aenar over at my summer home, Nataerys….she loves…_loved _to pick the wild flowers that grow around the gardens there. My son tells me that they arrived at the gardens undisturbed and the two of them spent a few days there without any problems, and who would try anything? I sent twenty men to guard them. Yet on their way back into the city they were….attacked by a band of sellswords. Killed all but three of my men, crippled my boy and took my daughter."

It seemed that telling what happened to his children had broken whatever semblance of composure that the old noble had left and he began to sob into his hands, his whole body shaking with overwhelming grief and emotion.

They all remained silent until he managed to pull himself together, this time he reached out and grabbed Oberyn's wrist pleadingly. "I know that she's probably dead, but dammit I need something done Oberyn, I need these bastards to face punishment and…..I need my daughter's remains back. Please, _please_. I don't care how much it costs nor what it takes but please…bring her back to me."

Oberyn leant forward and looked the Volantian straight in the eye and with astounding resolution told him "Alive or dead, your daughter will be brought back to her family. I swear."

Tyberyan smiled at him wearily and thanked him profusely, before quickly gesturing over to a short man with a large tattoo on his face and the man, who Will now realized was a slave, handed over a sheet of paper.

"This document contains the name of all those who would have reason to hurt me and my family, people who I may have upset in one way or another with my business deals and my political ambition." He said as he pointed out certain names to Oberyn whilst Will and Alystar remained forgotten about.

Oberyn seemed to have gotten everything he needed so he rose from his seat and once more gave Tyberyan his assurances that he would get to the bottom of this and bid his leave, with Will and Alystar trailing behind him.

* * *

"So what do we think?" asked Will as they entered their wheelhouse.

"He's right, this was definitely an attack on his house." said Alystar as he glanced over the names that Tyberyan had provided them.

"Perhaps we should have spoken with his son? Gotten his account of things?"

Oberyn shook his head at that. "No, the boy has been in and out of consciousness for over a week; he's in no fit state to help us."

"I dare say that the boy was only left alive to help send a message to the old man, 'back off or else we'll kill the rest of your family." chimed in Alystar grimly.

"Whatever the case I think we should visit some of these names, get some understanding of who we might be up against." And with that Oberyn tore the list into three sections and gave a scrap to each of the companions. "Try to investigate each person on your list; we'll meet up at the temple of R'hllor at sundown."

Oberyn barked instructions to the rider to drop them each off at a separate area of the city so that they could work their way through each of the names in that area. Will looked down at the names he had been given and Tyberyan's scribbles alongside each:

_Malaquo Maegyr- He has an estate that lies just outside the Black Wall that he doesn't use very often; it is small and sparsely guarded…she could be here._

_Doniphos Paenymion- owns several brothels about the city, any number of which could be holding Nataerys_

_Belicho Staegone- his bastard brother is captain of the city guard and his a known drunk, perhaps he could divulge information…_

Will pocketed the scrap of paper and decided that he would start with the Maegyr estate and then worked his way down the list. He walked for hours down the streets, using only the large overbearing black wall as a point of reference. Once the wall was in immediate sight he began to walk alongside it, trying to eye off any manses and occasionally had to stop and ask for directions, however most of the people at the streets only shrugged their shoulders and pushed past him.

By the time he finally found the place the sun was already beginning to set and he knew that there would be no way he would be able to meet up with Oberyn and Alystar now. _I'm here now, so I might as well have a look…_

He approached the large gate that barred the entrance and felt the cold metal, trying to see if there was any way he could scale it. Just as he tried to get a foot hold he heard a large shout from the distance. "You there! Stop!"

Will was about to run off as the guard came closer but suddenly stopped when he heard the gruff voice from his past. _It can't be…_

He turned around to see the familiar hairy form of his old friend Jorah Mormont standing before him looking as if he had seen a ghost.

"Will?"


	24. Tooth and Claw

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Here we are next chapter a little early. thanks again to all those who followed, favorited and reviewed the story!**

"Will? Gods be good what are you doing in Essos?"

Will stared in shock at the sight of his former friend. A dozen thoughts swimming through his head, a thousand different emotions fighting in his heart, anger, evidently won out and without even knowing it he swung forward and hit the bear knight across the face.

"You bastard! Do you have any idea what I gave up for you?" he screamed as he hit the downed warrior again. "What did you do with it huh? You betrayed my brother and all of our laws!"

Soon he let his anger overwhelm him and he found himself punching the big man again and again until Mormont managed to hit him sharply in the ribs with a left hook which stunned the young Stark long enough for the bear to throw him off and give him a powerful kick to the side knocking the wind from Will's lungs, but before he could do anything else Jorah grabbed him roughly by his collar and pushed him against the gate.

"ENOUGH!" he roared. "I'll not fight you."

Will tried to struggle free but Mormont's grip was resolute and after a while he allowed himself to cool down and lowered his fists, yet kept his eyes fixed on the hairy man's form as he let go of Will's collar. Jorah wiped the blood from his nose and spat out a tooth before giving the young Stark a deep look.

"What are you doing in Volantis? Judging by the half stunned expression on your face, you're not here to bring me back to your brother's sword."

Will was about to spit out a biting remark but then suddenly remembered why he had in fact come to this city of opulence. "I'm looking for a missing child, the daughter of a Volantian noble." He said grudgingly.

"Why in the name of the Gods would you care for some foreign brat? I'd have expected you to be married to that Fossoway girl by now popping out little wolves in the comfort of Winterfell."

Will felt a surge of anger go through him once again but was able to keep it in check as he instead focused on Nataerys Tyberyan, so instead coolly replied "That is not my home anymore. My life is in the Free Cities now."

Some sort of realization passed through Mormont's ugly head and he let a slow chuckle escape from his throat as he looked at Will once more, this time with more scrutiny. "You're a sellsword. Who was it, the Golden Company? Second Sons? Silver Serpents?" When he noticed Will flinch somewhat at the last name he chuckled again, this time with much more humor. "That's right, you and that bloody snake Martell met at the tourney of Lannisport. So that's what you're doing with yourself nowadays, fighting wars for the Viper."

"And what about you, standing guard for Maegyr's love nest at the end of the world? Must be rewarding life, being a glorified bodyguard." replied Will sharply, watching as Mormont's smile faltered.

"I get paid a fair wage for simply guarding this empty building." Replied Jorah stiffly.

Will gave a mocking laugh at that and was about to turn and leave his former friend to the hole he had dug himself when suddenly something occurred to him. "You work for Maegyr?" he asked.

Jorah looked at him curiously. "Yes….I've worked as a hired sword for over a year now, why?"

"Have you seen anything odd lately? Has anyone mentioned anything about Tyberyan?"

The bear knight shook his head in the negative before an odd smile spread across his hairy face. "I haven't heard anything, but I might know some people who do."

"Their names?" asked Will irritably; not liking the way Mormont was grinning.

"A trade; I'll introduce you to Maegyr's thugs and you'll give your word."

Will narrowed his eyes in confusion. "My word?"

"Your word of support when I ask Oberyn Martell for a place in Serpents." finished Jorah, his rough bearded face in a smug grin.

Will just stared at the former lord of Bear Island in shock at the audacity of what he was asking. Will had made a life for himself amongst the Serpents and rediscovered his purpose, yet now this this betrayer, this man who caused his misery in the first place would seek to corrupt that all with his presence? Will wouldn't have it. But then he thought of the little girl in the hands of murders, hurt or possibly even worse. He thought of the Tyroshi children, he thought of the Greyjoys. He knew what must be done.

"I will talk to Oberyn about it, on the condition that your help actually gets us to the girl." He said reluctantly.

Jorah grinned like a bloody fool at that. "Alright then, let's be on our way. I know just the man to talk to."

"Lead the way _old friend." _hissed Will as he followed the big man down the streets of Volantis.

* * *

It was well and truly dark by the time Will and Jorah arrived at this man's establishment, there was plenty of customers despite the hour which made sense because they were about to enter a brothel. As if picking up on the young Stark's unsaid skepticism Jorah quickly explained that the man who owns the brothel is one of Maegyr's most trusted business associates and "a man who has the right connections." As the bear knight had put it.

They were about to walk into the establishment when Will caught sight of four large men bursting out of the door carrying a large chest which they managed to load onto a waiting wagon. _Sneaking off with something ungodly_ _heavy into the dark of night? Oh yes that bodes well doesn't it?_

Jorah just grunted and led them inside, his eyes occasionally straying to look at the many lovely women trying to make their living. Will on the other hand tried to remain focused on the task he had been sent and looked straight ahead.

Several of the guards seemed to recognize Jorah so they just nodded to him and left him be. "Are you a usual here?" asked Will with a smirk.

"Maegyr often sends me on errands here to deliver things to the man we're about to speak with, Nestor." explained Mormont evenly.

"What makes this Nestor so special?"

Jorah stopped in his tracks and gave Will a hard look. "He isn't a man to take lightly Stark, they call him the White Tiger of Volantis for a reason. He has deals with every noble in Volantis, be careful of how you treat with him."

Will was somewhat surprised at the level of anxiety in Jorah's voice but none the less kept walking up through the hallways until he came across a large door with a tiger painted on it, he looked over at Jorah and took a breath before knocking. He heard footsteps and after a beat heard a muffled voice on the other side ask who it was. Jorah responded that it was him and they heard a series of locks unlatch and the door swung open, revealing a short bald corpulent man dressed in fine silks looking up at them.

"Good to see you again Mormont. Does Maegyr have something for me?" asked the small man in a kindly voice.

"No, no nothing like that Nestor….I just needed some help on a matter and thought that you might be the man to come to." said Jorah trying to sound pleasant.

"Of course dear boy, come right in. I've a new bottle of Dornish red that you simply must try." said Nestor as he shuffled off to his desk to get the bottle; he had made it half way across the room before he stopped and quickly shuffled back to Will with his hand outstretched. "Forgive my manners lad, I'm quite forgetful nowadays. I'm Nestor Marvaaris."

"Will Stark." said Will as he took the small man's hand.

"Ohh a Northerner just like Jorah, how interesting!" squeaked Nestor as he gestured for the two companions to take a seat at his desk.

Will was shocked at how harmless the little old man was, he had expected some tall grizzled ferocious looking beast of man, but instead here sat an eccentric old man who looked as if he could hardly grasp a sword let alone swing it. _The White Tiger? These Volantians must have a queer sense of humor_ thought Will as he watched the little man chewing on a piece of cheese.

"Now what can I do for you today gentlemen?" asked the man cheerfully as he cleaned his humorously large glasses.

"I was wondering if you knew anything about Maegon Tyberyan's missing daughter. Perhaps you've heard something or even seen something from one of your patrons?" asked Will hopefully.

The old man gave Will a sad smile and looked down in deep reflection. "I had heard of that. That poor man, first his wife and now his daughter… I do wonder how he'll cope with it all. But I'm afraid I can be of no help to you my good man, I don't allow children anywhere near this place of debauchery, and neither do many nobles attend such a modest establishment as mine."

"Well, thank for your time." Said Jorah as he was about to stand before the little man stopped him.

"Please, I've just opened this bottle of wine. It'd go to waste without someone else to share it with ey?" pleaded Nestor as he began pouring them both a drink.

However whilst the other two were discussing wine and some other trivial matter, Will's eyes began scanning the man's small room, up and down. Nestor had a fine collection of paintings adorning his walls, all of them of some form of love Goddess of varying religion. Will stopped at one particular painting feature a goddess from the summer isles, yet it was the not the painting he was looking at rather than the ground beneath it and he rose to his feet and ventured over, pretending to examine the painting. Reaching down he picked up the small shiny object that had caught his attention; the head of a porcelain doll, not unlike the kind Will's niece Sansa used to play with. _The lying bastard…_

"So, my lord, you say children are never allowed in your establishment? Then who does this belong to?" he asked sharply as he held out the doll's head.

The old man's eyes shifted from side to side nervously and he began muttering helplessly before Will brought his hand down hard on the man's desk. "What were those men carrying in the chest?!" he shouted, drawing his dagger but before he could he could reach over and grab the man he felt something hard hit him and everything went dark.

* * *

For what seemed like hours Will's mind was a haze of delirium and occasional moments of light before darkness swallowed him again for another long period until he was jolted awake to the land of the living by a harsh splash of cold water hitting his face. The first thing he noticed when he awoke was that his head hurt. A lot. The second was that he was bound against the large form of Jorah by several lengths of rope.

"Ah good you're awake, I wouldn't want you to be anything less than completely aware when you die." Came the familiar voice of Nestor whom was sitting in front of the two bound men amongst a row of old chairs, eating his cheese slices with several of his men. All were looking at the two with some hideous sense of glee.

"Nestor you son of whore, I'll have your head for this!" barked Jorah from behind Will, desperately trying to twist his head around from Will's side to look at the old man.

"Oh yes, keep thinking that Mormont." giggled the old man as he began cleaning his damned glasses again.

"What did you do with the girl?" asked Will, the throbbing in his head slowly going away.

Now the old man had stopped laughing. "I don't know why you're so interested in finding the child; you think that those nobles will praise you as hero? Do you think Tyberyan will award you for your service? You're a fool." He practically hissed before another queer smile stretched across his wrinkled face. "I was holding her for lord Maegyr, but the little cunt will be dead by now, haaha! You poor fucking Westerosi, you'll die for nothing!"

Will simply glared at the old bastard in front of him, almost hoping that his sheer amount of hatred would kill the monster. "So what's the plan now? Going to kill a couple of unarmed men?"

"Oh no, I'm not going to kill you." He said with barely contained glee before gesturing to one of the men standing out of Will's range of sight.

The young Stark could hear the rattling of chains and the grunts of exertion as the men pulled on something heavy. Suddenly several men grabbed Will and Jorah's bound form and hoisted them up out a hook high above the ground whilst the two captives struggled to break free in vain.

The two were then pulled over to a blank area of the dark room they were in, with two large hatches on the floor several feet below the hanging companions. Will could already feel his feet go numb as he and Jorah dangled helpless off the ground, behind him he could hear Jorah cursing under his breath as he tried to twist at his confines.

Two of Nestor's men went over and skittishly pulled open the hatch doors revealing a dark pit that was easily six feet deep, however it was not the height that worried Will but rather the low growls emanating from within. He struggled to look down from the angle of which he was hanging but he could vaguely see the prowling form of an orange and black beast, circling about below him.

"You see, I have never killed a man. I am the white Tiger, I am pure. But _those _tigers, well….they have killed legions." giggled Nestor as he licked his lips hungrily.

"You're fucking mad!" shouted Will as he now desperately tried to free himself.

However the young Stark's efforts only seemed to make the little man laugh more. "Yes fight and struggle, and if by some miracle you do break your bonds where do you think you'll fall? Haaha! I think this little show calls for some wine!" and with that a servant girl quickly walked over to the madman and his laughing retainers and placed a tray of wine down before quickly hurrying away, trying to keep her eyes away from the grim sight before her.

With a click of his fingers one of Nestor's men began to pull down on a rope and the hook that Will and Jorah were stuck on began to lower down slowly into the roaring death that lived in the pit beneath them.

"When they get at your ankles, well…that'll hurt, but when they get up to your knees, well then you'll suck my cock just to have me take your heads off instead." he chuckled prompting a gaggle of laughs from his thugs around him. "A toast to our Northern friends!" and with that Nestor and his men all drank a hardy gulp of wine as they hungrily watched as the two companions were lowered inch by inch into the pit.

"Fucking hell Stark, I should've known that you'd get me killed eventually." complained Jorah from behind him.

"Shut up, unless you have something useful to contribute." said Will as he struggled with the ropes on his hands, trying to twist them every which way in the hope that they would come loose. "Gods, its useless….I don't suppose you happen to be a warg by any chance?"

Jorah only grunted as he struggled to keep his feet up as one of the more enthusiastic beasts tried pawing at his boot. Will's thoughts were all over the place as he tried to focus on a way out. _I won't die like this, I am a Stark of Winterfell and I will not be killed by Nestor fucking Marvaaris!_

But then he heard a sound, a deep hacking noise that sounded as if someone was doing some failed imitation of a dog, and then a retching sound, and then finally silence. Trying his best to look around Will suddenly realized that he was no longer being lowered.

Nestor got to his feet and looked over at the man. "Savros what's w…." but before he could finish his own voice was cut off by a series of loud barks and suddenly he threw up all over himself, a deep crimson as he threw up his life blood all over the floor before collapsing in his own filth. Likewise all the other men began choking and bleeding in horrific cries of agony until, finally the only noise came from the hungry tigers, roaring for their next meal.

"Gods be good…" said Jorah as he looked around the gore below him.

"They aren't that good." came a voice below them.

Will could vaguely recall that voice from somewhere but in his current state he has having trouble simply breathing without his heart racing right out of his chest and all he could think about was how lucky he was to be alive.

He was shaken from his scrambled thoughts by the sound of the cellar doors closing, trapping the beasts beneath the study wood, which Will and Jorah were then lowered onto, both audibly sighing in relief. The young Stark finally looked over at his savior as she approached them; it was the servant girl from earlier. She quickly pulled out a small knife from her sleeve and cut at their binds, however before she could move away he grasped her hand and brought her closer towards him when it suddenly hit him. _The girl who tasted of fire…._

"That's twice I've saved your life Ser Wolf. One of these days' you'll have to make it up to Me." she said giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"How did you find us?" asked Will in amazement as he got to his feet.

His savior merely flashed him a dazzling smile and said "You didn't think I'd just let a catch like you go did you? I _keep _what I steal."

For a moment they simply grinned at each other knowingly and he felt a very strong urge to take her then and there but then Mormont grunted loudly and he remembered where he was.

"What did you do to them?" asked Jorah gruffly.

"I slipped a little of the strangler into their wine. Stupid bastards had it coming." She challenged, as the big man bowed his head in peace.

However just as she had spoken, the trio heard a groan coming from one of bodies littering the room and quickly went over to investigate. It seemed one of Nestor's men had not yet thrown up the last of his guts yet and was trying to crawl away, at least he _was _until Jorah flipped him over on his back, looking up at the three.

"Please….mercy." he croaked.

"Where did Nestor send the girl?" said Will harshly grabbing the man by the collar, and shaking him hard until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and his savior grabbed the man.

"If you tell us where he sent the girl, I'll give you the antidote." She said sweetly.

"I…have your word?" he asked hopefully.

"I swear on my mother's life that I will give you the antidote if you help us."

The man nodded in acceptance. "Alright, he sent her off to the Second Sons camp just outside of the city near the Rhoyne."

That sent a wave of despair through Will and looking at his two companions he could tell the feeling was mutual. Mero and his Second Sons had an evil reputation of betrayal and murder; he shuddered to think how a six year old girl would fare in their hands.

"We must leave quickly, perhaps if I can get back to the temple of R'hllor in time I can tell my superiors of the girl's location." said Will as they stood and made to leave.

"Wait! You swore that you'd give me the antidote!" cried the man on the ground behind them.

The woman stopped and went back over to the man and looked down at him with a slight grin. "There is no cure." and then quickly left the room with the others.

* * *

They were lucky enough to get an oxcart and made it to the temple of R'hllor just as the sun was coming up and the red priests were chanting in celebration. Will searched around feverishly for either Oberyn or Alystar but couldn't find them; he could almost feel the girl's life slipping away with each passing second.

He was just about to give up when suddenly he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned around a saw Alystar standing there with a deep frown on his face. "You're late Stark. We said to meet here at Nightfall, when Oberyn gets back-"

"Oberyn _is_ back, now stop squabbling you two." Cut in the Viper as looked them over before addressing the woman at Will's side. "So you found him, I hope it wasn't _too_ much trouble; the streets of Volantis are dangerous, even for you Nymeria."

"I'm fine _father."_


	25. Blood and Honor

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

**A/N: Big thanks to all those who followed, favorited and reviewed the story. It really does mean a lot.**

_Father. _

"She….is your daughter?" asked Will in confusion.

Will let the word bounce around in his head as he stared at Nymeria and Oberyn. It wasn't so surprising now that he actually saw the two of them standing together, the resemblance was definitely there; the shared the same dark eyes, same olive skin, Nymeria even shared Oberyn's widows peak. _How did I miss that?_

Oberyn smiled at that and wrapped an arm around Nymeria. "One of the few good things I have done right. Nymeria's mother was Volantian noblewoman; she knows this city like the back of her hand, so when you didn't arrive I had her look for you…." He trailed off looking at Jorah. "Ser Jorah Mormont, what a…_surprise_."

The way Oberyn looked at the bear knight told Will that it wasn't a remotely pleasant surprise and he could tell that Mormont was about to say something so he quickly cut in. "Ser Jorah is aiding me in the search for Lady Nataerys."

"And what have you found?" he asked pointedly.

"Triarch Maegyr had her kidnapped to use as leverage against Tyberyan to keep him out of the political race…Oberyn, the Second Sons hold her."

The Viper's black eyes narrowed in an ancient rage as he remembered his own service in the infamous company, Will could tell by the way Martell's whole body clenched up that this job had suddenly become so much more personal for him.

"Their camp is set up just outside Volantis near the Rhoyne; if we strike soon we could cut them down before too much harm is done to the girl." urged Will.

"There are only five of us Stark, hardly a fitting rescue party. I think we should send word to some of our men back at Braavos; they can be here in a few days and would be more than adequate to put down the Second Sons." said Alystar in his usual smug tone.

"She could be dead in a few days!" shouted Will angrily before looking over at Oberyn for support.

The Viper seemed to be considering it and was silent for a few moments before finally looking back at Will with a scrutinizing gaze. "If I let you go, do you really think you could sneak into their camp?" he asked in an even voice.

"All I need is a distraction to keep their gaze elsewhere while I sneak in and get the girl."

Oberyn looked like he was about to argue when suddenly Nymeria said. "My mother commands the hearts of many loyal men here; I can encourage them to help us provide a distraction."

The Viper looked at her peculiarly before laughing to himself. "Well then I suppose I should make myself scarce! Your Mother's family still wants my head for corrupting their innocent daughter."

Nymeria herself seemed to giggle at that, a personal joke between the two of them. It genuinely surprised Will how at ease and how _human_ Oberyn was with his daughter; even in their moments of quiet Will never quite lost the sense that his mentor was the Viper everyone spoke of and feared, but here now he seemed just like any other man.

Will was broken from his musing by the piercing stare of Nymeria. "I'll have the men ready to meet us back here by noon. You best be ready Ser Wolf."

* * *

While they waited for Nymeria to return Will and Jorah sat on the steps of the temple of R'hllor, enjoying the shade that the large overbearing building afforded them. It was slightly strange to Will how people thought that putting a bunch of stones together would please a god, but Will had to admit that the view was quite beautiful.

"I see you've gotten pretty friendly with Oberyn Martell's bastard daughter." said Jorah from beside him.

"I didn't know she was his daughter until this morning." He replied nonchalantly.

Jorah laughed at that. "The Dornish are unpredictable and mad as snakes."

"They're not so bad."

Jorah looked at him now, with a deep searching look that made his brutish features soften considerably as the humor left his face. "…What are you doing out here Will, living as a sellsword so far away from your family and friends, fighting wars for these Godsforsaken people at the end of the world. I know you lad; you're too good for all of this, for all of them. What happened to the Fossoway girl? She was sweet on you; you could have had a quiet, honorable life with her in the North."

Will hung his head in sadness as he remembered the way Leonette had been kissing Garlan Tyrell and answered miserably "She decided that a second son of Highgarden was better than a fourth son of Winterfell."

"Then love has made fools of us both." said Jorah as he looked off into the streets of Volantis bellow them. "Lynesse...had expensive needs, needs which I couldn't meet. Even….even after I had given up everything for her, even after I had fled from the home of my forefathers _still _she demanded more, and when she realized that I couldn't give it to her she left me. So here I am; stuck in some place between the living and the dead, without money, without love and without honor."

"It's never too late to change Jorah."

The former lord of Bear Island laughed at that but simply kept his eyes on the Volantian skyline, a look of defeated acceptance on his hairy face, yet something stirred within his eyes, something Will had never seen on his old friends face before: hope.

* * *

Nymeria arrived precisely at noon just as she had said along with twelve men who bore basic armor with the sigil of some Volantian noble house, presumably that of Nymeria's mother. Will wondered how loyal they really were to follow the orders of their lord's bastard grandchild out on a potentially life threatening endeavor. _Most men would go to the ends of the earth for a woman like her _he mused as he watched her approach.

"Are we ready?" she asked skeptically.

"Whenever you are…my lady." replied Will as he slowly rose from the steps and walked over to his horse.

Once they had all mounted up and ridden out of through the streets and out of the city they followed the great Rhoyne as it flowed far off into the distance. It vaguely reminded Will of the few times he had gone with his father and Brandon to see the Tully's in the Riverlands back when his big brother was still betrothed to Cat. _This place has far more beauty than the Trident, it's like one of Old Nan's fairy tales…_

After about an hour of following the mighty river the companions finally came across a camp in the far distance amidst the ruins of some old Rhoynish keep. They could only make out the vaguest hints of its actual size but there was little doubt that it was where the Second Sons had made their home.

As they got closer Will slowed to a trotting pace so that he could go over the plan with his companions. The Volantians however didn't know the common tongue so Will was forced to speak the High Valyrian dialects he had been taught as a child, not something he enjoyed considering that he rarely had to use such knowledge.

"Alright now listen up, if we do this right and we do this fast then everyone will get out of this alive. You men, I need you to attack them from the front and draw their undivided attention, use flaming arrows to set a light some of their outer tents but be careful where you aim, the girl is in there somewhere and it wouldn't do for us to return her charred corpse to her father. When they inevitably send out men to attack, you need to draw them away long enough for us to sneak in from the side and spirit the girl away, once we have done that we'll send up smoke as a signal for you to lose them. Is that understood?"

The men all nodded and Will turned to Nymeria and Jorah. "We won't have long to move in and find the girl before they notice she's gone. We move in and we move out."

And with that they went forward, racing towards the heart and home of their enemy, it occurred to Will as he rode closer to the camp that he would only have one chance at doing this before the girl became lost to them forever. _Then make it count… _said a little voice in his head that sounded oddly like Brandon's.

Will, Jorah and Nymeria broke formation as they got closer and rode out to the east of the camp just far enough so that any camp sentries wouldn't spot them right away. Will pulled out a looking glass to see what was going on ahead of them.

The Volantians almost seemed to transform from the quiet dutiful men they had been earlier into a band of marauders as they rode through the unsuspecting camp and set fire to some of the tents and cut down some of the men before turning and riding out of the main camp as dozens of the Second Sons rode out in pursuit of them, while the remainder scrambled to put out the flames that had consumed a few of their tents already.

"Now's our chance." Said Will as he and his two companions headed over to the eastern side of the camp.

They managed to ride right up to the outer most tent of the camp without attracting any form of attention from the guards. _They must be really struggling with those fires _thought Will as he used his sword to slice open the back of one tent before leading his companions inside.

It looked as if they had entered the tent of the Second Sons' paymaster as there was books and sheets of paper littered all over the table along with several skins of wine. Will peaked out of the tent and he heard loud commands as the men struggled to put out the flames yet could see no one in the immediate area so gestured for his companions to follow him as he snuck out.

Feeling his heart beating out of control in his chest Will hurriedly began searching through one tent to another whilst silently gesturing for the others to do likewise. The process was incredibly slow and there was easily over thirty tents within the camp, and with each passing moment Will could feel the precious time that the Volantians had given him slowly slipping away.

Finally he heard a quiet "_here."_ and he looked over to see Nymeria waving him and Jorah over to a tent with hurried intensity and Will felt bile rising in his throat. _What if we were too slow, what if they've done something to her…_but he quickly pushed these traitorous thoughts aside as he rushed over to the tent.

Will let out an audible sigh of relief as he walked into the tent, lying on a cot was the six year old form of Nataerys Tyberyan. The girl's hands and feet were bound in rope and she seemed to have a bloody lip but other than that she seemed perfectly healthy.

The girl seemed to rouse from sleep by their presence and suddenly sat up terrified in her cot, curling up into a ball as far away from them as she could get. "W-Who are you?" she asked in a voice that sounded as if it had been made raw from constant sobbing.

Nymeria got down on her knees beside the bed and held up her arms in a peaceful gesture. "We're friends of your father and we've come to rescue you sweetling."

Nataerys seemed to perk up at the mention of her father and looked across at them all with her bright purple eyes that were brimmed with tears. "You mean it? You'll take me back to papa?"

Nymeria smiled and gently brushed a stray hair lock of silver gold hair from the girls face and nodded, before producing a small blade from her sleeve and used it to cut the little girls bindings before scooping up the child in her arms.

Will remained in front of them whilst Jorah made sure that nothing snuck up from behind them as they quickly rushed through the camp back towards the paymasters tent, on the way he went over to one of the deserted camp fires that some foolish sellsword had left unattended and emptied a skin of water over the flames, sending a large fume of smoke high up into the sky to give the signal to his men.

Just as they went through the torn opening at the back of the paymasters tent and reached the horses Will heard shouting from behind him. _There goes the element of surprise…._

Nymeria lifted Nataerys up to Will and made for her own horse as they bolted off as fast as they could, all the while Will kept the small child held close his chest, careful not to let her slip from the saddle. He turned his head just briefly and saw that they were being chased by at least ten riders, all screaming for vengeance.

Urging his horse on faster and faster Will felt a sigh of relief as the riders began to shrink back into the distance while he and his companions continued to push their steeds to breaking point. He could see Volantis in the distance, could nearly taste their victory when suddenly he felt something wiz past his ears as the Second Sons rained a flurry of arrows on them.

Despite the distance the archers were very nearly hitting Will and all he could do was try and urge his already tired animal on even further and hold onto the child in his arms with greater determination. Something flashed in the corner of his eyes and he heard a pained scream as Jorah's horse got struck with an arrow and collapse from under him.

Stopping his gallop, Will turned around and quickly got off his horse and went to his old friend's downed form. The beast had collapsed on top of Jorah's leg and the bear knight was pinned underneath its massive frame, Will ran over and helped lift up the creature's body as Jorah eased himself out.

"Gods Jorah what have they done." said Will absently as he tried to help his friend to his feet only for the bear knight to collapse again with a bellow of pain.

"It's no good Stark, my leg…I think it's broken." He choked out through grit teeth.

Behind them Nymeria was beginning to look worried. "We must leave, they're coming!" she shouted.

"C'mon, I'll carry you over. You can ride with Nymeria." said Will as he tried to lift the big man's broken form only to be shoved off.

"N-No good…I'd only slow you down. Go on without me…save the girl."

Will stared down at his friend with disbelief and anger; he wanted to shake the sense back into Jorah, wanted to scream at him to get up and come with them yet instead he just shook his head violently in the negative. "If you're staying then I'm staying too, Nymeria can take her."

Jorah just laughed at that and grabbed hold of Will's collar. "No, No damned you. You were always a bloody…fool. You still have your life…don't waste it." He said, gripping Will's collar even tighter as tears brimmed in his weary eyes "All my life I've constantly made one bad mistake after another and I've let it cost me my honor. No more. I'll stay, keep them busy for however long as I can." He gave another sad laugh before looking up. "You've…always been a good friend Will….now…go." and with that he shoved the Young Stark away.

Will slowly let Jorah down and gave him one final, fleeting look as he tried to burn the his friends face into his mind before he turned around and got back on his horse. He spurred the beast on as hard as he could, yet he found that no matter how fast he went he could not outrun the pain of losing his friend.

He heard, or thought he heard a roar of agony behind them but couldn't bring himself to look back and instead just focused on the distant city of Volantis as he rode closer and closer.

* * *

Once they had entered Volantis they returned to the temple of R'hllor where Oberyn and Alystar were waiting. Will very calmly dismounted and gently helped Nataerys down and led her over to the waiting men. Oberyn had smiled when he saw the little girl looking meekly around. "Hello there Sweetling, do you remember me? I'm a friend of your father."

"You brought the lizards for me and Aenar." squeaked the little girl from Will's side.

"That's right. Would you like me to take you home now?" he asked kindly, as the child nodded her head fiercely.

Will saw that his job was done immediately turned and walked off into the streets as the others stared at him in shock. He walked down the large steps and into the streets, pushing his way through those who would get in his road, no doubt offending many of the Volantians. _Who gives a fuck about them?_ Thought Will angrily as he continued to walk.

He suddenly heard hurried footsteps come after him and he was surprised to see Nymeria coming towards him. "Will! Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find someplace around here where I can get drunk."

He went to keep walking when the sand snake reached out and grabbed his wrist. "That's not going to help."

"No, but it'll keep me feeling numb for a while." He said nonchalantly as he tried to free himself from her grasp.

"Please don't do this. Come back…come back with _me." _ She said as she brought her slender hands up to Will's face.

"What do you care? You've done all that Oberyn asked, you can drop the act." He replied coldly.

Nymeria flinched a little at his words but then grasped Will's hands and looked up at him with those dark eyes of hers, a fierceness burning away within them that seemed to cut right through to Will's very soul as she spoke. "My father doesn't know about us, as far as he knows we only just meet last night."

"But what about that night at Pentos, are you telling me that was all just a big coincidence?" he asked skeptically but did not take his hands from hers.

Nymeria looked down in embarrassment as a blush spread across her cheeks. "That was my fault. Father has been writing of you to me and my sisters and…..I wanted to see you for myself. None of it was an act, I swear on the life of my-" but she was swiftly cut off by a fierce kiss from Will as he hungrily explored her mouth and breathed in the fiery taste of her until finally he had to stop and the two of them were both breathing heavily.

"Did I live up to the stories?" he asked between breathes.

Her response was to kiss him again with equal fervor.


	26. Angels and Demons

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thank you everyone who rfollowed,favourited and reviewed the story, you guys rock! :D**

**Warnings: Sex, Gore.**

Will had never known anyone like Nymeria Sand.

Every little thing that she did was filled with a burning passion that was unmatched by those around her and Will couldn't help but be amazed by her. He would take time out of his day and simply watch as she practiced with her knives; dancing about gracefully and throwing her deadly little blades with ungodly precision. She burnt with the fire of life and her very presence gave Will a strength that he had never known before, and found himself feeling more love for her than he had thought possible for another.

Even when they made love Nymeria remained the elemental force that she was in all other aspects, the two of them would wrestle for dominance as they hungrily tore at each other's clothes and practically threw each other to the ground. They kissed each other deeply, as if the breath of the other was the only thing that could sustain them as they explored each other's body. Will took one of her breasts in his hand and gently tweaked at her nipple causing the sand snake to moan into Will's mouth. Likewise Nymeria hastily undid his breeches and took hold of his length and gave it a firm squeeze eliciting a gasp from the young Stark as she quickly brought him to hardness with her ministrations.

Pressing down on his chest Nymeria guided herself onto his manhood and started moving up and down in an even rhythm before increasing her speed and fervor as Will began meeting her thrusts with his own. Will brought his hands to her hips and softly caressed the flesh of her arse as he continued to guide her down again and again, savoring the sweet warmth of her body. They continued like that for some time until he began to feel her tighten around him, hugging at him with such force that he began to feel himself reaching his peak and the two lovers desperately moved against each with a fiery passion until suddenly Nymeria threw back her head and closed her eyes as she felt the sweet release overcome her. The sight of the warrior woman's state of ecstasy was enough to cause Will to empty himself inside of her.

Afterwards they just lay there on the ground entangled in each other's arms, breathing steadily as they stared up at the roof of the manse that Nym's grandfather owned. She had assured Will that they were completely safe there from any of Maegyr's men….or from her father's. It did not escape Will that by sleeping with Nymeria that he may have potentially ensured the wrath of the Red Viper, but he was certain that for now the Martell prince was too busy working with Tyberyan on his vengeance against the Triarch to notice how much time the young Stark was spending with his daughter. _Gods help me if he ever finds out…_

The next morning he awoke to a drop of water hitting his face, looking up he saw Nymeria teasingly tilting a cup of water above his head, a mischievous grin on her face. Sitting up he rubbed the sleep from his eyes stretched a little whilst the sand snake sat on his lap.

"You're quite adorable when you first wake up." said Nym teasingly as she placed the cup down on the floor beside them.

"Well it's not every day that you get to wake up a goddess like yourself." He replied with a smirk.

Nymeria shot him a dazzling smile and handed him a pile of neatly folded clothes which Will took and inspected ever so slightly. "You had them washed?" he asked.

"Well it seems that one of my mother's serving girls snuck in while we slept and washed our things….I do hope the poor thing wasn't shocked." replied Nymeria in a husky voice.

"She won't tell your mother will she?" asked the young Stark, with a hint of panic in his voice to which his lover merely laughed.

"Oh she'll most certainly tell my mother and even my grandfather but you can count on them keeping it from my father just to spite him."

Will was somewhat confused but nodded his head absently, trying to work out how he'd keep his and Nym's relationship from Oberyn without attracting the attention of any of his spies. _That damned Alystar already watches me like a bloody hawk…_

He wondered how long it would take before Oberyn made his move against Triarch Maegyr and his band of thugs; he would have to work quickly if wanted to catch the nobleman unawares and bring down the Second Sons without the matter escalating into an all-out war. Though part of Will wanted them to fight; he remembered Jorah's final screams as the bastards swarmed him and felt an overwhelming desire to kill every last one of them for it.

Suddenly Nymeria clicked her fingers in front of his face and Will was shaken from his brooding. "Penny for your thoughts." She said whilst trailing her fingers down his chest absently.

"Thinking about friends lost." He replied sadly.

Nym put her hand to Will's cheek and gave him a sympathetic look. "Jorah made his choice Will, and because of his actions we were able to save that child's life. He regained his honor."

Will smiled sadly at her and gave a weary nod. Nymeria quickly stood up and grabbed hold of Will's hand and pulled him up to her level. "Come, let's have breakfast in the gardens; they're quite beautiful in the morning."

The young Stark still felt a little sore from sleeping on the ground for so long but stretched out a little and followed his lover to the door before she took another look at him and stopped him up, giggling to herself as she did.

"You might want to put some clothes on before we leave, I'm sure my mother would die of shock if she saw me escorting a naked man around the manse."

* * *

They had supped on a collection of sweet fruits that had been native to the jungles near the Rhoyne along with a healthy amount of dornish red to help wash it down. Will hadn't seen any servants while they ate, in fact he hadn't seen much of anyone during his stay at the manse.

"I'm the dirty little secret of the family." said Nymeria when he asked her about it. "My grandfather wouldn't have it known that his daughter had dishonored herself by begetting a bastard, so he makes sure that there is as few eyes and ears on the grounds when I visit."

Will was stunned by that. "He actually treats you this way? What kind of a man would do that to his own blood?" he asked incredulously.

Nymeria looked away then, far off into something in the corner of the garden. Her dark eyes were focusing on it as though it was the some puzzle that she was unable to decipher from the current distance and the lack of understanding caused her to frown ever so slightly and Will felt his heart ache just a bit. Without looking at him she said "This is the way things are, I have no illusions about my birth."

"Well that's not how it _should _be." He said firmly.

Nym smiled ruefully at that. "You cannot change the world for me Will."

He opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a young servant boy came running up to them bearing a sealed letter which he haphazardly handed to Nymeria before bowing and running back the way he came.

Nymeria opened it and read it over quickly. "It seems that the good Triarch Maegyr choked on a piece of pie last night." she said before handing the note over to Will for inspection.

Will skimmed over the contents quickly and scrunched up the paper. "Your father moves quick. I take it that we'll be seeing more food related deaths in the near future?"

"Expect more than a few of these _accidents_." replied the Sand Snake, giving him one of her mischievous grins.

"Good. Then there's just one more thing that needs to be done."

* * *

He rode out of the city later that day without an escort and without Nymeria's comforting presence to retrieve the remains of his friend. He followed the path that they had taken a few days prior and road with an odd calmness; he knew it was extremely likely that the Second Sons would still have a few stragglers roaming the area yet he if anything that only served to encourage him further, to find closure in whatever way possible.

He saw Mormont's dead horse up ahead and steeled himself as approached the rotted carcass, trying to fight the urge to gag on the rancid smell of the putrefied flesh. However amongst the smell and the swarm of buzzing flies Will could not see any sign of his friend's body and cursed inwardly when he realized that the Sellswords would have likely taken his body back to their camp to use as a grim trophy.

Urging his horse on, Will rode off to the east towards the camp of the Second Sons. He doubted that they were still there but he had to be sure before he could move on. Riding with a sense of urgency he managed to come within sight of the camp, or what was left of it within an hour of riding.

The camp was just as Will imagined it would be; deserted and left in a state of partial destruction. The ground was littered with arrowheads and various other weapons and tools that the Second Sons had left behind in their haste to leave, even some of the fires that Will had lit two days past still sent up trails of smoke in the areas where they had once burnt.

It was amongst the litter of broken tents and half burnt wagons that Will caught sight of what was left of the once proud bear knight lying in a pile of corpses that sat near the smoking remnants a bonfire . Jorah's armor and weapons had been stripped from his body and half of his flesh had been consumed by the flames leaving only a grotesque mockery of his old friend.

Will sank to his knees in front of the body and felt his strength leave him as he began sobbing at how unfair a fate had befallen Jorah Mormont, his ally, his _friend._ In that moment he cursed the Volantians and their corruption, cursed Ned for his cold sense of justice, cursed Lynesse Hightower for her vanity, cursed the whore Leonette Fossoway for getting them all mixed up in the dishonest ways of the south but most of all he cursed himself for failing his friend.

He knelt there amongst the blood and soot for perhaps an hour before he gained the strength to remove the body from amongst the filth and wrapped his cloak firmly around it. Jorah had towered over Will and the young Stark did not want to do anything ungentle with his body so he went to call his horse but stopped when he saw two men walking about just ahead of him, searching through the burnt tents. They didn't seem to notice him as they rummaged through a collection of discarded weapons.

"Why the fuck does Mero want us to look through this shit anyway?" complained one of them as he piled up a bunch of old, slightly burnt swords from the rubble.

"Because we aint got enough steel to let this lot go to waste." Informed the other as he tried picking up a half rusted battle axe.

_Second Sons_ realized Will as he felt a surge of anger rush through his veins. _I can't take back what they did to you my friend, but at least I can balance the scales_ he thought as he slowly unsheathed his blade and quietly circled behind them, keeping low amongst the rubble to mask his presence. He crept closer and closer up to his unsuspecting prey and from there let his wolf's blood take over.

"Look, all I'm sayin' is that Mero should be punishin' those stupid fuckers who left it all here in the first place instead-" but the man's words caught in his throat and then rose up to greet the world in stew of bubbling crimson as Will's blade pierced his chest. The other man looked over at him in confusion as he slowly realized what had happened to his companion but before he could react Will brought his foot to the back of the man he had skewered and kicked him forward, both unsheathing his sword and pushing the body of the man into his confused partner.

As the man fumbled with his companion's corpse Will swiped across the ground with his sword and took out his opponent's feet, causing him to cry out in agony as he collapsed under himself and the weight of his dead partner's body.

Will calmly walked over to the man and stood over him, his face icy as put the tip of his sword beside the man's face. The man screamed out in pain and horror as the blood of the sword smeared on his face only to be met by a grim stare from Will.

"M-mercy?" he pleaded.

"I don't think I have any left." Replied Will coldly before pulling back his sword and cleaving the man's head from his shoulders.

Will looked down at the two bodies before him and oddly enough did not find the peace he had hoped for, instead he felt nothing. He had killed two members of the group that murdered Jorah but why wasn't his grief any less? _Because the dead don't care for vengeance_ answered a voice in his head that sounded like Eddard.

Sighing deeply Will cleaned and sheathed his blade before walking back to his horse. He urged the dark beast as close as he could to where Jorah's body was and took the cloaked form in his arms and carefully secured it across the back of his horse and then quickly mounted up and rode from the camp, desperate to escape from the demons that haunted that place, demons he had created.


	27. Justice, Vengeance

**5 years later.**

"Move faster! Quick! If you can see the white of your opponent's eyes then he can see yours!" barked out Will as he watched the new recruits swing and lung at each other with their blunted weapons around the practice yard. He wasn't overly impressed by any of them, but he could see that they had determination and they were eager to serve. _Perhaps I'll make Silver Serpents of them yet…_

He continued to watch them for another five minutes, occasionally barking out another set of orders to each of them, instructions on how to move, instructions on how to hold their swords. It all reminded him of his training with Viserys back in Pentos, but by now the boy, or man as he should now say, had developed into quite an impressive fighter, a fact that filled Stark with a deep sense of pride and confidence. _If I can train a half starved child into a warrior then I should breeze through with this lot._ He mused to himself.

Stark was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of boots walking across the gravel behind him. Tilting his head he saw the familiar copper form of Taggo approaching him, the big man smiled when he saw Will and gave a slight nod which Stark returned.

"What news Taggo? Come to see the new recruits?"

The big man shook his head furiously at that, as if trying to shoo away a persistent fly. "Not this lot no. The Viper requests your presence in his chambers." He rumbled.

Will gave a stiff nod and barked out a collection of exercise drills for his men to do while he was gone before swiftly following the big Dothraki into the keep and up through the many winding staircases until finally he saw the familiar door of Oberyn's chambers, with a single knock Taggo and Will entered the Viper's lair.

As he walked in he saw Nymeria walking past, her black eyes briefly meeting Will's before turning downcast as she continued on out of the room. It had been a dangerous business for them to keep up their relationship as long as they did, even after Will had returned to Braavos the Sand Snake followed, claiming she wished to help her father run his operations in whatever way she could. For some reason Oberyn obliged her and she was able to keep in close contact with Stark even when he was called away on the company contracts and Will found that he couldn't imagine not seeing her lovely dark eyes every day.

Oberyn gestured for him to sit at his table whilst he waved Taggo off. "Wine?" he asked as he brought out two cups along with a large bottle of drink his countrymen were famous for.

"Yes, thank you."

Martell handed the glass of crimson liquid over to Will and took a seat opposite from him, a large collection of letters sitting beside his right hand. He briefly glanced down at them and back at Will who took a sip from his cup.

"So how long have you been fucking my daughter?" he asked in casual tone as he rummaged through his letters.

Will just about choked on his wine at that and immediately began coughing as he struggled to hold down the liquid, and his fears. He was about to respond when Oberyn raised a single finger to his lips to silence the now panicking northerner.

"You won't be speaking just yet, only listening. Is that understood? You can nod your head."

Will stared in confusion at the Dornishmen but knew that despite the man's calm tone he wouldn't think twice about striking him if he so much as made a sound, so nodded his head once.

The Viper seemed to accept this and took a sip of wine before looking Will straight in the eye. "Good. Now….my daughter is no fool Stark, and I do not think that she would allow herself to be taken advantage of by anyone, least of all someone as honest you. So you can take heart, I see no reason why the two of you should not do as you wish. You can even have my blessing if it makes you feel better, but know this; if you do, in any way_, hurt_ her then I shall cut something off, and promise it'll be something you miss. Are we clear?"

Will sat in stunned silence for a moment or two before finally giving a weary nod to the Viper who in turn seemed to perk up considerably as he opened up one of the letters from beside him. "You can speak now." He said dismissively.

"May I ask a question?"

"You just did. But yes you may." smiled Oberyn, as he tapped the edge of the paper against the table.

"How did you find out, about Nymeria and me." asked Will uncertainly.

A slow smile crept along the Viper's face then and he leant back in his chair and gave Will a peculiar look, one that he struggled to decipher as Martell's eyes peered over at him, like a cruel version of his daughter's. "Well, ignoring the fact that I have spies everywhere….it was the way you two _didn't_ look at each other. You both seemed to put considerable effort into not looking each other in the eye." He said finally with a laugh.

Will knew the Viper was right and mentally chided himself for not being able to mask his feelings better; he knew that there was more than a few people who would gladly take advantage of such things and he would have to learn how to wear the mask of indifference to protect those he loved.

Oberyn shifted in his seat uncomfortably and then leaned forward, so very close to Will with a strange look in his black eyes. "I did not call you here just to discuss Nymeria…..there are things that you must know, things I have not told you." He said darkly.

"What do you mean?"

Oberyn continued to hold his stare at Will with an odd expression; it seemed as though the Viper was struggling with some ancient hurt yet he could not stop himself from speaking it. "All my life…I looked after Elia. She was older, but I knew from the start that it was my job to take care of her. Gods, I still remember the day when she was wed to Rhaegar fucking Targaryen. I never liked the man but…he made her happy and they had a life together until Harrenhall, but you know all that nastiness don't you?" asked Oberyn almost bitterly causing Will to flinch ever so slightly at the memories of old, and secrets long kept.

The Viper took a mouthful of wine before continuing. "And then of course Rhaegar died, and his father died and then the Lannisters….." he broke off as a wave of anger seemed to course through him, almost choking him to point where his whole body was trembling. "They dragged Rhaenys from under her father's bed and stabbed her half a hundred times, the snatched little Aegon from Elia's arms and dashed his tiny skull against a stone wall. And Elia…." At that the Viper had to stop and rose from his chair, walking over to the small window in the corner of his chambers and stared out into the horizon. "My sister never harmed a soul, she never did anything that would have caused another any pain…and those monsters butchered her and her babies."

For a long time Oberyn stayed silent as he watched at the various soldiers working down below them. Will had no idea what he could have said to the man to console him so remained unspeaking from his seat. After a time the Dornishman seemed to find his voice again and returned to his desk, this time his black eyes were burning with a different kind of rage and….excitement.

"What did Robert Baratheon do after that? He rewarded the Lannisters and took Tywin's daughter as his queen and now the killer of children has the keys to the realm. I want justice, justice for Elia and I want to tear Tywin Lannister's entire House down while he watches and for the rightful heir of the Targaryen dynasty to reclaim his ancestors' throne."

Will sat in stunned silence as the gravity of Oberyn's words dawned on him and a warm terror swelled in the back of his mind as he realized the implications of his mentor's vendetta. _He means to start a war…._

Finally after a long moment Will finally managed to regain his composure and tried giving words to his many thoughts. "You and House Martell are going to rebel against the Iron Throne?" he asked incredulously.

"Rebellion? No, what I want is reclamation. To return Viserys to his birthright and for us to wipe away the men who have allowed the realm to drown in the blood of innocents."

Will ran a hand through his long raven locks in exhaustion, still half in shock as he tried to process all this new information he was hearing. Part of him truly wanted to believe what Oberyn was saying but he found that there were still too many variables. "So you'll rise up and destroy House Lannister and House Baratheon…..what of _my_ House?" he asked challengingly.

A look of surprise crossed the Viper's face at that and he held up his hands in a peacefully gesture. "I won't ask you to fight your own kin Will, and neither shall I or any of my allies raise arms against House Stark. Was it not your brother who famously called out Tywin Lannister as the murder he is? If  
House Stark remains neutral in the coming conflict then I swear on my sister's name that your family shall not be disturbed or otherwise touched by any of it."

However Will remained unconvinced. "And when Viserys Targaryen takes back his throne he'll just…what? Forget that my brother raised arms against his father and brother?"

Oberyn grinned at that. "Viserys is to marry my niece Arianne, and when she rules as queen either my brother Doran or myself will serve as Hand of the king, we'll keep him in line if he tries anything foolish. Besides, the boy owes you everything since you took him and his sister in, and from what Alystar has been telling me the young prince practically idolizes you, even if he is angered that you're a Stark I don't think he'd do anything against you."

Will had to admit Oberyn had a point; Viserys had grown into an intelligent and kind individual. He was quick to anger but was fiercely protective to those he cared about and most importantly he had learnt that being King was as much a duty as a right. _Between Aerys and Robert I think the realm could do with someone like that as king _he mused, as he found the idea slowly becoming more appealing within his mind. _Could it really be done? Could we really make Westeros a better place?_

"How would you win this throne?" he asked after a time, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Oberyn could see that Will was warming up to the idea and gave the Stark a large grin. "All of Dorne will lend their spears, along with those sprinkled throughout the Seven Kingdoms still loyal to House Targaryen. We also have the support of several powerful people here in the East who are willing to lend support, as well as the combined strength of this great Company you and I have helped build and grow."

Will could see it in his head. He knew Robert had left the kingdom in severe debt and that if not for Tywin Lannister's gold the whole realm would be in dire straits, yet despite that many of the people loved him still. Will wondered if perhaps given time Robert's spending would catch up with him and help make the his reign less stable for Viserys invasion.

"This sort of thing….it isn't like trying to outmaneuver a company of rival sellswords or crush a fleet of pirates; we'll need to muster all of our resources to do it. Give me a few months and I can have all of our men across Essos together and ready to make an attack." said Will as he thoughtfully rubbed at his stubble.

Oberyn however merely shook his head and handed over a letter from the pile beside him. "Time is a luxury that we don't have my friend. The enemy has struck first, Jon Arryn is dead."


	28. Failures

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Once again, thank you everyone who followed, favourited and Reviewed the story.**

**_Edrick_**

It had taken Edrick five days of slow and steady riding along the Kingsroad to reach Winterfell. A deep part of him wanted to arrive as quickly as he could so that he would have amble time to establish himself about the great northern castle for when King Robert's entourage arrived. But Edrick had heard of how slow the King had been traveling and he was sure that he would arrive at least two or three weeks ahead of him, and with a little luck he would be able to catch the attention of some great Southron lord who might take him into their household.

As a bastard Edrick knew that his options were quite limited, but he hoped that his skills with sword and shield would be enough to sway a lord into letting him serve as a landed knight. He had spent three years as Willam Stark's personal squire until his death and then spent another three serving with Domeric Bolton until the heir of Dreadfort had decided that he was ready to take his vows.

In truth he missed his life as a squire; travelling across the seven kingdoms with Ser Willam and lord Domeric. He had seen so many wonders in his time, from the miserable islands of Pyke to beautiful golden streets of Lannisport; Edrick had even been to the Vale of Arryn when Lord Domeric had wed Lady Myranda Royce. Now he was a knight himself and it was up to him and him alone to find a place to call home. _Not Will, not Domeric, only me._

On his fourth day of travelling he was joined by a collection of other journeying hedge knights with a similar idea as Edrick's, who knew of Lord Eddard's kindness and hospitality. They were a kind enough bunch and shared their fire and what ale they had with him, yet Edrick knew they were competitors that he would need to beat in order to find his new home.

When they were approaching Winterfell Edrick heard the most bizarre story from some of the locals of winter town. Apparently Lord Eddard had found six Direwolf pups when he went out to deliver justice to a deserter of the Night's Watch and had taken the beasts back to his home as pets for his children. He was skeptical but also excited to see if the rumors were true; it's not every day that one gets to see a real life Direwolf and he'd be able to see his old friend Jon Snow again. Edrick had met Jon during his time as Will Stark's squire and the two had grown to be fast friends, the two bastards about Winterfell, the two Snows among the Stark family.

When they entered Winterfell the groups of Knights were greeted by lady Catelyn herself who kindly offered for them all to sup with her family in the great hall, which they all readily agreed, hungry for a warm meal after spending weeks eating only salted beef.

During the feast Edrick and the knights had been seated on one of the lower tables in the great hall and were served a nice side of honeyed pork for dinner. Lord Eddard himself had sat with them for a time and spoke with them about various things, asking how their travels went and what news they had heard. Yet even when he sat and listened enthusiastically Edrick could see that there was something wearing down on the man, like a sense of exhaustion and aching sadness.

Ser Willam had once told him that Eddard had spent time being fostered in the Vale as a boy and that he saw Jon Arryn almost as a second father. _He grieves,_ thought Edrick suddenly. _He grieves for the second father he has lost in his lifetime._

After a while one of the knights had stood up drunkenly and raised a mug of ale. "A TOAST TO LORD STARK! A BETTER HOST THERE HAS NEVER BEEN!" cheered the man drunkenly which was met by a thunderous applause as everyone in the room raised their glasses to the warden of the north.

However, after they had all drank to the name of Lord Eddard a sharp sound of clapping cut through the hall as it slowly got closer and closer. Everyone's eyes went to the source of the mocking claps; a hooded figure who had seemed to have appeared from nowhere and slowly made its way towards the Starks up on the dais.

The room was silent as a crypt as the figure swaggered forward and Jory Cassel stood from his seat tapped his sword gently, but noticeably. "Not one more step." He told the hooded man.

That warranted a chuckle from the man. "Is that anyway to treat an old friend Jory?"

Throwing back his hood the stranger revealed himself to be a comely looking man with shoulder length hair as black as the night, and with a face that carried the Stark bone structure and piercing silver eyes that seemed to challenge all who gazed at them. What Edrick noticed most was a vertical scar that ran just beneath the man's right eye, almost giving the impression that the man had shed a tear of blood. The man was unmistakably a Stark, yet the way he carried himself was so unlike any of that House. Realization dawned on the young Knight then. _Ser Will….Gods can it really be him?_

"You all look like you've seen a ghost." Said Will with a gloating smirk.

Lord Eddard was the first to find his voice and slowly walked over to his brother. "How..."

Will smiled again, yet it didn't reach his eyes and it gave Edrick an uneasy feeling. "You should know by now brother that you can't trust a Southerner, especially when it comes to members of our family, I would have thought you of all people would know that."

Suddenly Lord Stark threw a sharp punch at Ser Willam's face echoing with a resounding crack and sending the younger Stark to the ground. The lord of Winterfell looked like he was going to strike again but then seemed to remember himself and simply took a breath before turning to everyone in the Hall and apologizing as he had his men drag Ser Willam outside.

* * *

**_Willam_**

His jaw hurt like hell and he could still taste blood from where Ned had hit him. _I should have known he'd react like that; the wolf's blood is in him too _he mused humorously to himself as he was escorted to one of the castle's spare chambers.

His guards didn't say a word as they urged him on into the plain looking room that seemed to be reserved for undignified guests. It had been sparsely furnished, with only the bare essentials such as a bed and a fire and small table and chair that sat right beside the single window of the room. Will vaguely recalled using the room as a hiding space when he and Ben were small, but he didn't think he had been in the room for a long time, and by the looks of it neither had anyone else.

His guards stood beside the door and tried to look intimidating as they watched over him. He pulled up the seat from the table and placed it a few feet from the men, sitting down lazily and staring at them.

"I know you don't I?" he asked the older one.

The man shifted uncomfortably and replied in gruff voice. "Keep quiet."

"No, I'm certain I know you." He insisted as he searched his mind before it finally came to him. "Ah that's right, you were the boy who used to help the kennel master during the times me and my brother went out on hunts, what was your name again? Podrick? Paddy?"

"Patryck milord." He replied with the faintest smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"That's right, Patryck. Gods it's been years. You've grown into a man now…..but tell me, do you still piss yourself whenever the old man shouts at you?"

"That's it!" growled the man as he went to strike at Will, only to be stopped by Ned who had somehow made his way into the room along with Catelyn and Ser Rodrick.

"Enough. Go back to the hall, both of you." He told the two guards, who scurried off quickly at the tone of Ned's voice.

Once they had left Ned, Cat and Ser Rodrick all looked at Will with scrutinizing eyes, their anger was palpable yet Will merely shrugged it off and sat back into his chair and starred back at them with a lazy grin.

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded Ned, who looked like he wanted to strike Will again, which only served to fuel Will's amusement.

"I've been seeing the sights of the Free Cities and enjoying the freedom that only death can provide." He replied with a toothy grin.

Ned practically leapt across the room and grabbed hold of Will by the collar and knocked the breath from his younger brother as he slammed him against a wall. "You selfish bastard!" he roared, his grey eyes burning. "Seven years. For seven years I mourned you! The _children_ mourned you! After everything this family has been through, you do something so selfish and cruel as this?"

Will just stared back at his brother with an irate look. He had played out this conversation in his head thousands of times before during his time with the Serpents, sometimes he would spend an entire week at a time trying to wrestle with his own guilt, but that was a long time ago, and he had seen and done so much since then. "You know nothing brother."

Ned looked at him in shock and then shoved him away in disgust. "I know a coward when I see one, running away from his responsibilities."

That had ignited the Wolf's blood within Will and he let the rage get the better of him as he punched Ned hard in the face, knocking his older brother to the ground. However he wasn't done with his anger and continued to punch at his brother's downed form until Ser Rodrick dragged him off. "WHY DON'T YOU TAKE MY HEAD THEN BROTHER? IF I HAVE DISGRACED YOU SO THEN TAKE MY FUCKING HEAD!" he screamed as Winterfell's master at arms restrained him tightly.

All the while Ned was slowly getting back to his feet as Cat tended to his blooded nose with a handkerchief and whispered desperate words in his ear in an attempt to sooth his anger. He seemed to still be in shock over the fact that his little brother had attacked him like that and looked over at Will's struggling form with cold indifference.

"Keep him locked up in here until I can figure out what to do with him." said Ned coldly before taking hold of Cat's hand and walking from the room.

Ser Rodrick slowly let go of the struggling Stark and watched warily as Will took a deep breath and ran a hand through his long dark hair and closed his eyes in frustration.

"That was foolish Will. You acted out of anger, I taught you better than that." said Ser Rodrick. "He is your brother and Lord of Winterfell."

"He's also a cunt." replied Will without looking back at his old teacher, his hands still visibly shaking even after his anger abated.

Ser Rodrick put his hand on Will's shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "He's just upset, he had to deal with the fact that his little brother has just returned from the dead. It's not an easy thing to accept, and you didn't help things with that attitude of yours. "

Will said nothing and kept his back to the old man, after a moment Ser Rodrick turned and went to leave the room, but just before he did he stopped and looked over at Will sadly. "He grieved for you Will. We all did."

* * *

**_Eddard_**

Ned tried to remember the last time anyone ever hit him, he knew that it would've been at least twenty years or more, during his time in the Vale with Robert during a drunken tirade. Even then, Robert had never done it with the look of hatred that Ned's little brother had shown. _What's happened to him in the last seven years? Where did the quiet little boy go?_

He could still remember the day his youngest sibling was born, could still remember how tightly Lyanna clutched his hand while they waited with Brandon outside their mother's rooms. He had been frightened at first by the screams that were echoing out and by the sight of bloody sheets being taken out, yet he knew he had to be strong for Lya and Ben, just like Brandon was.

Their father had finally appeared after a time, his usually stoic face now marred by grief as he told them to come in and see their mother. Even as a child Ned knew what his father had really meant was for them to come in and say goodbye. Walking into that room still troubled him even now. _The bed of blood, the smell of approaching death….that's twice you saw such a thing, another woman you loved…._No. he wouldn't think of that, the hurt was still too near.

Yet his mother had lived for another two days before finally dying of fever, and she was coherent enough to hold him and his siblings close while she still had the strength. The whole time her eyes kept travelling back to the infant at her side, as if she had to constantly reassure herself that the child existed and would not have him parted from her, rousing up as much as she could when anyone else moved to touch him.

She had taken hold of both Ned and Brandon's hands and squeezed them tightly and whispered something to them in faint voice. "_Keep him warm."_

Ned had long thought on his mother's words, playing them over and over in his head. He had even asked his father what she meant, but Lord Rickard had merely glowered at his second born child and grunted something about being delirious from the fever and would speak no more on it. Maester Walys had said that it was because Will was born too soon and that children born like that were often devastated by the cold. _They were all wrong _thought Ned sadly. _She had meant for us to keep him good, to keep him happy in this cold world. Did I fail him?_

"Here, let me take a look." said Cat, shaking him from his brooding.

He turned his head towards her and let her tend to his swollen cheek with a wet cloth. Her blue eyes focused hard as she gently cleaned the wound and Ned felt the tension leaving him as he gazed into those beautiful blue orbs.

"Do you think I've failed him in some way Cat?" he asked quietly. "Perhaps if I was closer to him growing up, if I spent more time with him…."

Catelyn stopped her efforts and took Ned's face in her hands, leaning in close she brought her blue eyes to his grey. There was a quiet strength in those eyes and Ned could feel her projecting that onto him. "Listen to me Ned. Will's path was his own and no one, not even you, could have altered it."

"I just….I wish I could talk to him, tell him how much I've missed him and to tell him how much I love him."

"You still can." said Cat gently as she gave him a peculiar look before taking his hand and leading back to their bed.


	29. Reconciliations

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Once again, a big thank you to all of you who followed, favourited and reviewed the story!**

Will slept fitfully that night.

His dream began with the memory of the last time he saw Nymeria back in Braavos. They were lying in each other's arms bathing in the hot aftermath of their love making when he quietly informed her that he was to return to Winterfell, her beautiful features twisted into a frown of betrayal. He had tried to explain to her yet his memory suddenly became distorted and he found himself trudging through fields of snow as he desperately attempted to get back to her only to find his feet getting heavier with each step until eventually he collapsed as the unrelenting cold slowly began to consume him until all was darkness.

He had jolted up then, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his bearings. He was still in the guest chambers and by the looks of it he had slept long into the day as a brilliant ray of sunlight shone down from the room's single window. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Will got up and went about putting on his clothes before approaching the door. He pressed his ear against the wood and tried to hear for any sounds coming from the other side, talking and heavy breathing or even someone just shifting their weight. Yet he heard none of these things, in fact he could hear nothing.

Will decided to try his luck and opened the door and to his amazement it was not barred, nor was there anyone standing guard. Feeling an almost childlike sense of excitement the Stark quickly hurried down the corridors and tried to remain out of sight from the guards. His first stop was at the baths, which was luckily enough unattended.

The baths at Winterfell, much like everything else, was heated by the natural hot springs that the great castle was built on and it took little time for the water to heat itself to Will's liking. After neatly folding his clothes into a pile the Stark slowly got in the steaming tub and instantly felt the tension leave his muscles as he slowly submerged most of his body.

As he went into the comforting embrace of the warm water he felt a sense of overpowering peace as his thoughts began drifting. He remembered the time he and Nymeria had gone swimming in the mother Rhoyne, playfully twirling about each other in the ancient river. He could still remember how they had dived deep towards the murky depths and had kissed the life into each other while the world had passed them by above the surface._ If I could, I'd take her somewhere far away and let the rest of this ugliness pass us by. We could marry, have children and be free…_

But Will knew that was just a silly dream. There would always be those who desired power and wanted to take it, the game of thrones would never end. And with that thought he emerged from his bath and wiped himself dry with the towel he had filched from the laundries.

Once he was dry and dressed he snuck outside and made his way over to the Godswood. There was a few people moving about doing their daily duties around the castle but they paid Will no mind as he walked past, just another face as they went on with their day.

The Godswood was as beautiful as the last time he saw it so many years ago. His senses went wild at all the familiar sights and sounds that flooded through him and he found himself content in the home of his Gods. The Stark felt himself drawn over to the Weirwood tree and he laid his hand on its ivory hide and closed his eyes as a distant memory returned to him.

"_The tree's too big Lya." He had complained as he looked up at his sister sitting on one of the top branches._

_"It's not big, everything else is just small. Come up here and we can be big together." she told him gently._

_Will bit his lip in uncertainty as he looked up at the mighty tree standing before him, it was looking down like some bone white colossus with its sad carved face and red bloody tears. His father had told him that the Old Gods would always protect him, but now standing before it he felt that perhaps it was trying to challenge him._

_He looked the tree right in its carved eye and with a grim determination began climbing upwards; slowly at first as he found his footing but eventually he reached up so high that he could see over into the training yard. Suddenly the branch he was sitting gave way and Will struggled to latch hold of a nearby branch yet before he could fall he felt his sister's soft hands grab hold of his._

_"C'mon pup, we're almost there."_

Will smiled at that as he opened his eyes and stared up with a rueful smile. He wondered briefly if his sister truly was at peace with the Old Gods and if she could still see him now, he wondered what she would say. _Probably that we're all a bunch of idiots squabbling like this _he thought as his smile turned into a grin.

"I thought I'd find you here." came Ned's voice from behind him, breaking Will from his reverie.

Will grunted a response and turned around to face his brother. He was surprised that his own anger at Eddard had cooled somewhat overnight, but he supposed that it may have been the peaceful aura that the Godswood provided that eased his temper.

"You removed the guards from my door." He stated evenly.

"You would have gotten past them somehow, knowing your craftiness." replied Ned with a smile as he approached the weirwood. "Do you remember the time when Brandon hid up there and waited for Benjen to say his prayers?"

Will nodded as a slight smile crossed his face. "He started calling down at him pretending to be one of the Old Gods, poor Ben came in thinking that he had to walk around Winterfell in his small clothes because the weirwood had told him."

They both laughed at that and stood together in silence as they relived moments long gone. The silence between them eventually became more noticeable and awkward until finally Ned shifted his feet and tried to speak. "Look….about yesterday…..we both acted foolishly."

"….yes." was all Will could say as he tried to focus off in the distance rather than on his brother's sad eyes.

"When you left, we all thought you were dead…Renly _Baratheon _told us you were dead. It was like losing Brandon and Lyanna all over again."

When Will finally found the strength to face his brother he was surprised to see a pained expression crossing Ned's usually cold visage. "It was my job….to protect you, to keep you safe…"

Will was stunned at seeing Ned give such an emotional display; all his life Eddard had been the quiet one, the dutiful one the one who had always done as he was told, but Will had never given any thought to how all that responsibility weighed down on him, or how much he would take Will's leaving to heart.

"Brother, you didn't fail me nor did you fail them. You've kept our family alive, and kept our father's lands safe." said Will as he squeezed his brother's shoulder. "I was the one who let you all down, I ran from my problems and didn't spare a moment's thought on how it would affect anyone else…..forgive me brother."

Ned's grey eyes looked at Will searchingly and he finally decided to ask the question that had hung in the air since he returned. "Why did you leave?"

Will had known it was coming but that didn't stop him from feeling the hurt of old wounds being opened again. He pinched the ridge of his nose in frustration and paced about the Godswood as he tried to find the right words to explain his actions for the last seven years.

"Do you remember all those letters coming in and out of Winterfell from the south?" he asked suddenly.

Ned searched his memory briefly before giving a slight nod. "Aye, they were from the Reach if I remember correctly."

"House Fossoway of Cider Hall." he corrected absently. "I was…involved with lord Fossoway's daughter, Leonette."

Will was silent for a long time as he stared down at his reflection in the pond bellow the weirwood, examining his reflection and trying to imagine what exactly it was that Leonette didn't want. "I had met her during my time south after the Greyjoy Rebellion and….I thought I loved her and her me. When I travelled to the tourney of Storm's End I sought to win her hand in marriage by impressing her father during the jousts…I learned too late that she was already betrothed to Garlan Tyrell."

Ned put his hand on the younger Stark's shoulder and Will simply laughed bitterly as he looked down at his rippling reflection. "Have you ever poured your heart out for someone one you love, truly love, and have them tell you that you're not good enough? I was crushed and humiliated, so I ran as far and fast as I could to escape it all, to escape my pain. I didn't think of you, or of the family; I just wanted to leave.

Ned stared at him in confusion. "But why go to the Free Cities? Our family has no connections there."

Will paused for a moment and considered his next words carefully; he wondered how Ned would react to his friendship with the Red Viper and House Martell. At first he was worried that his brother would be angry, but then he remembered Ashara Dayne and how much Ned had loved her before her death and his marriage to Catelyn. "I have friends in Dorne; they had connections in Braavos and helped me get a position in a company of Sellswords."

Ned's face darkened considerably and Will thought he was going to launch into a tirade about how dishonorable Sellswords were yet he said nothing and simply gestured for Will to continue.

"So I ran, I lived amongst cold blooded murders and fought in battles that weren't my own, killed men who had done nothing to me or my House….anything to escape the pain." he admitted sadly, forcing himself to look Ned straight in the eye.

His brother did not look angry like he had expected but rather he seemed saddened by what he had heard and he pulled Will into a tight embrace, something he had not done since Will was a small child. "It's alright Pup, it's alright. You're here now, back where you belong."

_Yes, but I also belong with Nym _he mused quietly to himself. Ned suddenly looked down at Will with a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps it's time for you to meet the family."

* * *

Later that day Will decided to go and test out the old training yard of his youth but was surprised to find it in use as two young men practiced sparring together with blunted swords. One of the fighters had the red Tully hair with a shortly trimmed beard and Will knew right away that it must have been his nephew Robb. _Gods, he's almost an adult now _mused Will as he watched his nephew strike and parry against his slightly older opponent who had to be Theon Greyjoy.

He felt a swell of pride as he watched Robb best the Greyjoy with his fast and strong blows and agile movements. Will had seen and fought beside many fierce warriors in his time and judging by how Robb was handling himself now, Will had to admit that he was one of the best.

Eventually Will's presence caught the attention of the two opponents and after a short discussion amongst them Robb walked over where Will was standing. The boy seemed slightly anxious but spoke none the less. "Uncle Will. It is…good to see you."

"And you Robb." He replied, holding out his hand to his nephew, who in turn shook it.

"It's been too long uncle. I've missed you, we all have." said Robb quietly.

"Aye and I'm sorry I caused you all so much grief. I've missed out on so much; I hope to make it up to you all…..Gods I can't believe how much you've grown!"

Robb laughed at that but then waved it off. "I'm still not as big as Hodor."

"Heh, give it time. I saw you out there, you've got quite a skill with a blade." said Will with a slight grin.

Robb smiled modestly at that. "I'm alright, but I'm sure there's plenty better than me out there."

"Oh you'd be surprised Lad, I've seen Braavosi water dancers who'd probably fall to your blade." He said giving his nephew a light slap on the back.

"You must have seen so much in your travels." Replied Robb absently.

"Oh, I saw a few things. I saw the Titan of Braavos up close as he stood protectively in front of the city. I swam in the rivers of the Mother Rhoyne and watched as the water came alive as if it was made from thousands of sparkling diamonds as the sun set over the horizon. I walked beside the great black wall of Volantis ….but despite it all, nothing quite compares to this place."

Robb looked off a bit into the distance at that and Will was surprised how despite his Tully features he could look so much like a Stark. Even when he spoke it was in the solemn tone that Ned and lord Rickard would often speak in. "I wish I could have been with you."

"Someday you'll see the wonders of this world Robb, I promise you." said Will giving his nephew's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Robb!" called out a distant voice from behind them breaking the two Starks from their conversation. When Will turned around he was surprised to see a scruffy young boy running his way with a large Wolf running beside him. His shock was worsened when he realized that it wasn't a girl coming his way but rather a little girl wearing breeches and riding gear.

"What is it Arya?" asked Robb from beside him.

"Father wants you to come to the great hall." replied Arya before giving Will a challenging look. "I know who _you_ are, you hit my father."

Will was stunned as he looked at the little girl, his niece, but not because of what she said, but rather _how_ she said it. With her fierce tone and challenging eyes, he felt a sudden sense of familiarity. _Lyanna _he thought _she looks as if she's Lyanna come again. _It was almost eerie how similar she seemed to Will's long dead sister and it took him a moment to collect himself.

"He hit me f_irst._" He replied, almost childishly.

Arya narrowed her silver eyes at him, menacingly. "Then don't get him angry _stupid."_

Will cracked a lopsided grin and that and ruffled the girl's hair. "It's been a while since anyone's called me that. I'm your uncle."

Arya's eyes widened in shock and she looked over at Robb for confirmation who merely smiled back at his little sister.

Will just chuckled to himself when he saw the girl's jaw fall open in shock. He felt a wet sensation on his hand and looked down to see the young wolf pup licking at his fingers, Arya caught wind of it and called the wolf back. "Nymeria!"

Will's ears perked at the name he suddenly looked down at the wolf and then back at Arya. "Nymeria? You named her Nymeria?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's a good name! I named her after the warrior queen!" replied Arya fiercely.

_Oh I bet Nym'd love knowing that there's a Wolf named after her_. Will couldn't help but let out a large bark of laughter at the thought which ached right in the ribs as he continued to chuckle like an idiot while his niece and nephew stared at him in confusion. After regaining his senses and wiping away the tears from his eyes he tried to explain it to them. "I know a woman named Nymeria and its….never mind. You best go off and do as your father bids, I'll see you at dinner."

He smiled to himself with a sense of pride as he watched his niece and nephew walk off; the two of them had grown into fine people, and he knew they'd carry the Stark name well. He giggled to himself some more about the coincidence of Arya naming her wolf Nymeria and decided that he was going to tell Nym all about it in his next letter. He was disturbed from his thoughts by the loud "thrang" of a nearby arrow being released, only to realize that Theon Greyjoy was still in the training yard, so he decided to go and see the young ward of Winterfell.

"You have a fine aim." He commented lightly.

The Greyjoy gave him a brief glance before unleashing his next arrow which hit its distant target dead center. "All of my people are good archers." He said smugly.

"Aye they are."

"I bet it must have felt like a relief going over and hiding in comfort amongst the painted lords and foreign whores." said the boy smugly as he unleashed yet another arrow which again hit its target with a now annoying "thrang" sound.

Will's face turned icy and he narrowed his silver eyes on the boy. "I saw my fair share of violence in the east."

Theon looked at him now, with an arrogant grin on his face. "Oh? So you actually played toy soldiers with those foreign bastards."

Will felt a surge of anger flow through him but instead of acting on it he simply smiled. "Every one of those 'foreign bastards' put up a better fight than your father's men ever did. And none of them ever screamed for mercy like your coward of a brother did."

Theon's nostrils flared and for a moment Will thought that the boy would hit him but instead he settled with giving Stark a deathly glare. Will gave him a cruel smile in return and then turned to leave but before he did he stopped and gave Theon a fleeting look. "Just remember your place Greyjoy, remember who you are."


	30. Distance

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: And here we are, a new year and now a new chapter. As always a huge thank you to everyone who has supported the story so far, especially those who reviewed and favorited the story, you guys keep me going!**

_ Nym_

_ It's been two weeks since I last held you in my arms and not a day goes by when my soul doesn't ache for you._

_I know we didn't part as well as either of us would have liked but I swear to you greatest love, that I would never leave your warm embrace unless it was absolutely necessary for my family's sake, and your father's plan must be accomplished by any means. The seven kingdoms depend on it. _

_It's so beautiful here Nym, I wish you could see it. The Godswood is still as beautiful as ever, a real Godswood not those petty gardens the Andals have. The summer snows have already begun to fall and the children are building snow castles and throwing snowballs at each other, watching them feels like I've stepped into a memory of my own childhood. Have you seen the snow? I'll have to bring you sometime._

_It's been hard trying to get to know my family again after so much time has passed since I last saw them, Robb and Jon are already men grown and the rest of them have no memory of me, Gods! I even have a nephew I've never met before. It seems that my youngest niece, Arya, has named her pet Direwolf after the "great warrior Queen Nymeria", I'm sure you approve of that._

_I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I'm not even sure if Winterfell has a raven for Sunspear or if you'll even be there to receive it. I know that you'd rather raw passion than all of this quiet sentiment and that mere written words are no substitute for actually being with you , but until I can be there beside you, until I can take your hands in mine or hold you against me this is all I can give you, this and all my undying love._

_From now until the end of time,_

_Your Wolf._

Will put the pen away and blew over the ink to let it dry before he closed his letter up and stared at it for some time. He thought about all the letters he had sent to Leonette and felt a slow rising sense of dread fill his mind, would it be that Nymeria also lost interest in him? Dozens of similar thoughts sprung to mind as he considered it. _You hardly knew Leonette, Nymeria has stayed with you for years in Essos. It won't be the same _he tried to reassure himself.

His eyes travelled over to the hearth in front of his bed and then back to the letter sitting on his desk and entertained the idea of getting rid of the silly thing, to destroy the foolish display of affection what would most likely just cause him further heartache. After a time he decided to instead place it within his desk.

Will breathed in as he felt the cool northern air hit his lungs and exhaled with a slight smile crossing his face as he watched the various servants move about the castle grounds trying to get it ready for Robert's arrival. From his height they all seemed to be the size of ants, and he briefly recalled his sister's long gone words. _Come up here and we can be big together…_

It wasn't long before his peace of mind was disturbed by the sound of small feet clambering up stone. He turned his head slightly to see young Bran climbing up beside him, and look of quiet interest as he sat down beside his uncle.

"You're a climber too." Stated the boy

"I've always loved climbing up here, ever since I was your age. It's quiet up here. peaceful." He said in agreement.

Bran smiled a little as he looked up at Will. "And everything's so small from up here it's like…."

"Like you're above the problems." finished Will as he looked out into the horizon.

Bran's smile grew broader at that and a comfortable silence settled between them for a time as they enjoyed the sunset together. Will decided that he liked Bran quite a bit; the boy didn't talk as much as the rest of the family, and there seemed to be a strange wisdom to him that made him seem older than he was.

"What do your parents think of all of this climbing?" asked Will after a time.

Bran looked down as if he was hiding a shameful secret but answered Will in an even voice. "Father doesn't seem to mind too much…..though Mother hates it when I climb."

Will frowned a little at that but supposed that Catelyn was only being protective of the boy, and wondered how his own views on things like climbing and hunting would change if he had children to call his own. _No doubt Nym would have them out milking vipers by the age of ten…._

" You can keep on climbing if you want, and I'll even join you up here if you ever need the company….but just promise me you'll keep your footing lad. That way neither of us will get yelled at." He said ruffling the boy's auburn hair.

Later that night Will enjoyed a quiet meal with his family, or rather as quiet as a meal can be with Arya throwing food at everyone and Sansa constantly insulting her. The two sisters' feuding struck Will as slightly odd considering that he himself had gotten on well with his siblings as a child, he wondered if their mother's Southron ways were to blame. Wildness and ferocity like Arya's were not uncommon among some ladies of the North yet it seemed that this behavior was not something that was compatible with Catelyn's views, and Sansa being so much like her mother, seemed to mirror that sentiment.

When the children's squabbling got too agitating Will politely excused himself from the table and went off to find Jon and see what his other nephew was getting up to. His search eventually led him to the training yards where Jon was busy hacking away at a training dummy.

"Having fun?" he asked the young man, causing him to startle slightly before he gave Will a slight smile.

"Just working off some steam." Replied Jon as he gestured to the worn dummy.

"Would you care to spar with me? It's always better practicing with a target that can hit back." He offered.

His nephew looked at him uncertainly for a moment but then gave a nod and handed him one of the blunted practice swords. Will swung it about to get a sense of the weight and then got into his stance and gave the signal to Jon to begin.

In a flash his nephew lunged at him, swinging at him with a speed and ferocity that Will hadn't expected and he struggled to do little more than defend himself while Jon unleashed on him. The lad was surprisingly skilled; he had the right amount of force behind his strikes and was fast enough to attack Will from all angles without leaving himself open, if he wasn't on the receiving end Will would have felt proud.

Will managed to find a big enough opening to swipe across at Jon's side and using the momentum and space the attack offered him began pressing forward on the offensive. Jon swung at him then, pushing all of his body weight behind the attack thinking he could overpower his uncle, yet Will simply sidestepped the blow, causing Jon to lose his balance and fall forward and as he did Will hit him in his padded chest, warranting a growl of anger.

Jon turned around and swung at Will yet again, though this time the attack was sloppier, and his movements were less delicate, allowing Will to easily avoid it and strike him once again with a blow to the ribs. Jon's anger was almost palpable now as he tried a flurry of swipes and lunges at his uncle only to have them easily avoided or countered. Jon came at Will one final time with a massive swing before his uncle was able to knock the blunted sword from his hands.

"Where were you? Your mind was far away from this fight Jon." Said Will in a concerned tone as he put the blunted swords away.

Jon looked down at his feet sadly. "It's…. it's nothing uncle."

Will frowned at that. "It's not nothing; if you're not totally focused on what you're doing then your form suffers, your attacks become sloppy and you leave yourself open. State of mind can be the deciding factor when fighting for your life."

Jon nodded solemnly and looked as if he was going to saying something but instead decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Was it Catelyn again?" he asked sympathetically.

Jon remained silent but the wounded look in his eye told Will everything.

"I'll talk to her. You may not be her son but you are Ned's, she cannot keep treating you like this, all of this nonsense…." He told his nephew firmly, a deep feeling of anger rising from the pit of his stomach.

Jon simply shook his head sadly. "It is how it is uncle. I have no place here, and Lady Stark has no obligation to me."

"I don't care what your last name is, you're my blood dammit! It doesn't matter how much she likes to think otherwise but you have just as much Stark blood as any of your siblings." said Will fiercely.

Jon was silent for a long time and when he finally forced himself to look up at Will, his expression nearly tore his uncle's heart out. "I'm a bastard uncle; I'll _never _be a Stark."

* * *

**_OBERYN_**

The Red Viper sat uncomfortably in his seat. Despite the lovely familiar scenery of the Water Gardens before him and the sight of his youngest daughters enjoying themselves with all the other children playing about the pools, Oberyn couldn't help but feel anxious. He had waited sixteen years for his vengeance and now Tywin Lannister and his brood had begun to slip up._ Justice is so close that I can taste it…._

Doran sat quietly to Oberyn's left in his wheelchair as he watched his own son play in the pools, no doubt lost in some melancholic dream of the past while his ever loyal guard Hotah stood ready to defend him from even the slightest threat.

"We have word from our friends in Lys, they've pledged quite a large amount of medicinal supplies to our cause." said Oberyn, trying to stir his brother from his daydreams.

"What about our friends closer to home? What have you heard of them?" asked Doran without looking away from the pools.

Oberyn shifted in his seat again. "Several Houses in the Riverlands are eager to see the dragons returned, as well as are a few in the Westerlands who are hungry for Tywin Lannister's seat."

Doran closed his eyes for a moment before slowly looking up at Hotah, his joints no doubt in agony as he performed the simple action. "Hotah, could you please wheel me out over to the orange trees? My brother and I have much to discuss."

The bearded priest of Norvos merely nodded and helped Wheel Doran away from the children and in the direction of the trees, Oberyn walked steadily beside him with an odd sense of sadness at having to look down at his big brother's now crippled form.

"How does our future King fare?" asked Doran from beside him.

"The boy and his sister are under the protection of my Serpents in Pentos, we've gone to great lengths to ensure that his presence in my manse goes unnoticed." Replied Oberyn curtly.

A sad smile crept across Doran's worn features as he looked up at his younger brother and not for the first time Oberyn wondered what was going through his brother's head. "I don't mean his physical state. How is his temperament? What sort of a man is he?"

Oberyn was slightly stunned by his brother's questions and struggled to find the right response. "He…well…in truth it was Will who spent time with him, training him in matters of combat and history."

"Does he have any of his father's madness?"

Oberyn merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly at that. "He hasn't been burning anyone…though it matters not; we will keep the boy contained if need be."

Doran frowned deeply at that and shook his head at Oberyn. "Of course it matters, this is my daughter's betrothed and I want to know if he can make her happy."

"She'll be queen of the Seven Kingdoms, what more could you want?...But you need not fear, from what Will has told me Viserys is not his father; he would be a good husband to Arianne."

Doran nodded and seemed to visibly relax in his chair, or rather relax as much as he could with his gouty limbs and for a time the two brothers and their silent protector remained in peace as they slowly walked and wheeled over to the shade of the orange trees, the fruit nearly ripe. _Just like our revenge_ thought Oberyn.

"When the time comes, will your Wolf Knight be able to keep the Starks neutral?" asked Doran suddenly.

Oberyn was somewhat surprised by his brother's boldness but answered his question without hesitation. "Will has fought by my side for seven years; he's lived with me and my men and stayed loyal to us through thick and thin. Not once has he failed me and I don't expect him to start now."

Doran gave his brother a curious glance that seemed to pierce right through Oberyn's very soul, reminding the Red Viper of his childhood when he was a boy and Doran was already a man grown and how he would look at him with that same deep look whenever he suspected Oberyn of telling a lie. After a long moment Doran gave the slightest of nods.

"I think Nymeria is in love with him." He confessed quietly.

Doran raised a brow at that and a smile, a genuine smile, crept across his face. "Now this is interesting. I take it you approve of her choice?"

Oberyn shrugged. "My girls have never been in love. Oh yes, they've known lovers, I'm well aware, but they've never been like this….never been as vulnerable as one is when they put their hearts on the line. I'm…"

"Scared?" offered Doran with that same quiet smile of his.

"Yes." admitted Oberyn "I've taught them strength and independence but never how to deal with a wounded heart. I' m scared that Nymeria will be hurt and….I don't know how to help."

Doran softly rested his hand on Oberyn's shoulder and gave it a feeble squeeze. "These are fears every father comes to know. You just have to trust them and be there when they need you."

* * *

Oberyn woke with a start the next morning and after unlatching himself from Ellaria's grip and adorning a pair of pants decided to go for a walk before the sun rose and the heat became bothersome. He enjoyed the soft breeze that gently kissed his bare chest and the way the cool tiles felt underneath his feet as he walked down through the now abandoned gardens. Oberyn marveled at how quiet the place could become when the its usual inhabitants of laughing children were at rest, yet when he tilted his head he could hear the distant sound of muttering and the occasional "thrang" of wood being struck.

He followed the direction of the sound out towards the court yard where he was met with the sight of his three eldest daughters. Obara and Tyene were talking away with each other animatedly whilst Nymeria stood a distance away, rapidly throwing a barrage of small knives over into the center of numerous wooden targets that had been set up.

As if sensing his presence Tyene and Obara looked up and immediately stopped their discussion and walked over to greet him, each one giving him a single kiss to both cheeks.

"Obara." He said taking his first born child in his arms. "Have you been keeping your spear arm strong?"

"I have father, and I crave for the day when I can use it to drive a blade into your enemies." She told him firmly.

Oberyn could still remember when he had first collected his eldest daughter from her mother many years ago. He himself had been young and even more impulsive than he was now, yet he never regretted his actions that day and he still felt a deep swell of pride in his heart when he remembered the determined look on Obara's face when she chose him over her whore of a mother.

"And what of you my sweet Tyene, what have you been doing since I last saw you?" he asked his younger daughter.

"Oh, this and that…." She replied, grinning at him enigmatically, no doubt concocting some devious plan in her pretty little head. _The most venomous of my children_ thought Oberyn not for the first time. Tyene was unlike his other children, or really any other person he had ever met. Physically she had nothing of him in her with her pale skin and blonde hair in contrast to his own dark features, yet he knew her sharp mind and viscous nature was entirely his. She was so like the Viper everyone called him, and for that he was both proud and assured.

"I see that Nym is still as deadly as ever." He said as he stood between them and watched his second born continue to throw her blades, each hitting their targets with a delightful "thrang" noise.

"She's just angry that her pet Wolf left." said Obara rather loudly with a snort.

Nym stopped briefly and glared over at her sister but then continued to throw her blades with increased vigor and aggression. There was a burning anger within her black eyes that Oberyn knew all too well and he felt a pang of sadness at how his actions had caused her grief and anger.

"Would you give me and Nym a minute alone please." He told the other two, his voice leaving no room for discussion.

The two Sand Snakes looked at one another and walked off somewhere out of his line of sight, leaving him and Nymeria alone in the large courtyard. She didn't cease her deadly practice and for a long moment Oberyn was simply content to watch her, trying to figure out a way to ease his child's heartache.

"What is it about my practice that you find so intriguing father?" asked Nymeria fiercely, her usually beautiful face now contorted in a look of frustration as she threw one final knife with all her strength out at its target.

"You can act tough around your sisters all you want, but I see right through it. You're hurting." He stated calmly as he walked up beside her.

He could see in his daughters eyes that she desperately wanted to stay angry, that she was clinging to her anger like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood in the ocean. Perhaps she thought that by staying angry at everyone her sadness wouldn't be able to consume her, as if she could use one emotion to starve off another.

"He left me."

Oberyn sighed deeply at that and gave Nymeria's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "He left because I told him to, if he could be here then he _would_."

Nymeria's stony expression suddenly crumbled and a barrage of tears rolled down her olive cheeks before she pressed herself against her father as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as her body was wracked by sob after sob.

"I cannot promise you that he will return soon, or that he'll even return in one piece but what I can promise is that no matter where he is, or how much danger lies between you and him, he will return to you." He said gently, stroking his daughters ebony locks.

"How can you possibly know that?" she asked miserably into his chest.

Oberyn took his daughter's face in his hands and forced her eyes to look directly into his identical black orbs. "A man like Willam Stark would part oceans for the one he loves, and there is no one he loves more than you."

* * *

**_Edrick_**

It was a cold and miserable day when King Robert finally arrived. Edrick supposed that he ought to be used to the cold weather; he was a Northman after all, yet for some reason the cold never invigorated him in the way that it did most of his fellow countrymen. _Give me_ the_ warmth of Riverrun or Highgarden any day…_

Ever since Willam Stark had made his miraculous reappearance Edrick had wrestled with the idea of speaking with his old mentor, yet every time he approached the man he was overcome by a nagging feeling of unease that he couldn't quite explain, it was as if the man was some feral dog that would bare his teeth at all those who got too near.

How one man could change so much was startling to Edrick and more than once he found himself watching the wandering Stark and trying to reconcile the man who currently walked about the grounds of Winterfell with the laughing friend that had kept him alive during the Greyjoy rebellion and he could scarcely see any similarities, all of which he had informed Lord Domeric by raven.

The exact circumstances of Roose Bolton's death were very mysterious, especially to Edrick who had been serving as Domeric's squire at the time. Lord Roose had left on a riding trip with a handful of personal guards without telling anyone where he was going or how long he would be despite his son's protests. A week later he returned in a feverish state demanding to be leeched, however the bloodsuckers did him little good and he was dead within hours and Domeric the new Lord of the Dreadfort and his first act as was to knight Edrick.

Suddenly the young knight felt a particularly strong breeze of cold hair hit him right in the face and he struggled to remain standing at attention with the rest of the household knights and guards while King Robert and his family made their way into the Courtyard of Winterfell.

Robert Baratheon was nothing like the proud and strong warrior king that had beaten both Aerys Targaryen and Balon Greyjoy, his bulk of carved muscle was now turned into layers of fat and his once dashing face was now sagged with age and weight and a beard that barely contained numerous chins. Edrick wondered how he could even still ride a horse.

After the king dismounted everyone in the courtyard fell to their knees and a great quiet fell over the entire castle as they watched in excitement as Robert walked over to lord Eddard's kneeling form, gesturing for the Warden of the North to rise, and thus everyone else as well. Robert looked at Lord Stark with a hard expression before saying something that Edrick could barely make out from his position, though it sounded like the King called lord Stark fat and for a brief moment the two stared at each other with tense looks before suddenly they both burst out into laughter and pulled each other into a fierce hug, with the whole castle breathing a sigh of relief.

Robert then went on to hug and greet each member of House Stark as he went, but stopped when he came upon Will, standing defiantly alongside his nieces and nephews. Robert gave him an odd look and asked him something about foreign whores; Will smiled and said something in a quiet voice that Edrick couldn't make out. Whatever it was it had impressed Robert a great deal and he gave the knight a happy slap on the back before moving along.

At that point the queen Cersei Lannister had left her wheelhouse and administered her own brand of cold courtesy to lord and Lady Stark. Edrick was amazed by the queen's beauty, with her golden hair and burning emerald eyes she shone like a colorful beacon in the mass of grey that dominated Winterfell and the whole of the North.

The young knight felt himself scowl as he watched King Robert disrespect her by heading straight to the crypts with Lord Stark and leaving her alone in the courtyard without a second thought. _The great fat fool loves a girl long dead more than his living and breathing wife who stands by his side…_

After the king's entourage had fully entered the great northern castle and everyone in attendance had dispersed to ready everything for what would no doubt be a grand feast come nightfall Edrick made his way back to the small quarters that the Starks had provided for him and went about making his own preparations for the night's feast.

He considered sending a raven to lady Myranda to enquire about her current condition now that she was with child but thought better of it, knowing that he'd seem silly worrying about like some old woman so in the end he decided he would wait till he had heard back from lord Domeric before he sent any more letters to the Dreadfort.

Feeling fitful now that he had a few hours to himself before he had to socialize with the southerners he paced backwards and forwards in the confined space of his living quarters before finally deciding to settle down with a book he had procured from the library of Winterfell and lost himself in a tale of the past.

* * *

**_Benjen_**

It had been two months since Benjen Stark had first gone off to investigate reports of Wildling raids along the Wall and he had never felt so happy to see the giant frozen structure standing before him. The Wildling attacks had been quick and brutal, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake, yet they would never lay any real assault on the wall itself. They'd simply come in and attack as many black brothers as they could and then fade back into the forest, as if they were probing the Night's Watch for weaknesses, either way Benjen was worried and the first thing he intended on doing was speaking with the Old Bear about it.

As he entered the common hall Benjen was greeted by various brothers who came up and asked him of the ranging and what news he had from his trip. He tried to answer as politely and quickly as he could before walking over to get himself a bowl of stew, which if his nose was correct, was a mix of rabbit and onion, causing his stomach to grumble in approval.

Just as he sat down with his meal he felt an unsteady hand grasping his shoulder and when he looked up he saw old Maester Aemon standing there with a quiet smile on his wrinkled face. "Oh Benjen, there you are. Would you mind walking me to the Lord Commander's chamber?" asked the old man in a kind voice.

Ben took one last mouthful of the stew before rising to his feet. "Not at all." He replied before walking over to the stairwell with the old man, keeping a firm hand on him to keep him steady as they walked upwards until they finally reached the Old Bear's chamber. When Jeor Mormont caught sight of Ben he quickly waved him inside with an odd sense of urgency.

"Have you told him?" asked Mormont gruffly.

"I thought it would be easier if we sat him down and explained it all first." replied Aemon.

"Explained what?" asked Benjen as he felt his sense of confusion rising.

"Sit down Stark, and pour yourself some wine. This may be difficult for you to deal with." said the Old Bear as he handed Ben a jug of wine.

Ben was stunned by the gravity in the Lord Commander's voice and slumped into a chair, watching carefully as Maester Aemon felt his way over to the chair closest to Ben, looking comically small in the large wooden seat.

"We've had ravens coming in of late, letters that concern you." said Mormont before pausing and looking back at Benjen with a sympathetic expression. "Perhaps you'll want that horn of wine now."

Ben weakly poured himself a drink and took a mouthful of the bitter liquid before gesturing for Mormont to continue.

"The letters…..Benjen your younger brother still lives." He said suddenly.

"What?" asked Ben incredulously.

Suddenly he felt Maester Aemon's soft hands touch his arm gently. "He speaks the truth Benjen, your brother Willam yet lives, hiding amongst the Free Cities."

Benjen couldn't believe what he was hearing and for a moment just looked at the two men sitting around him, his head spinning as he tried take in everything he had just heard. He remembered when he had received a letter from Ned about how Will was missing and presumed dead and how it had taken three men to restrain him when he tried to ride off to the Stormlands to look for him, it'd hurt but he learnt how to live with his pain, now they were telling him that he was alive?

"I know it must be a shock Ben, but there is a reason why we had to keep it such a secret…you're brother has made mention of things, things that would be considered treasonous to those looking for favor in Kings Landing." said Mormont gravely.

"The letters…..I need to see these letters for myself."

Mormont nodded to him and unlocked a small compartment from his desk and pulled out a collection of letters and solemnly handed them over to Benjen as if they were fragile, and when Ben received them he took a breath before opening it.

_Ben_

_Before I begin, I must apologize for the elaborate lie that my friends in Essos have allowed to spread, but it was a grim necessity to ensure that no one would try and stop me. Take heart, I am very much alive and I have not forgotten my family. _

_I have been working with Oberyn Martell the Red Viper for the last seven years, serving as a commander in his Sellsword army living amongst some of the finest killers alive, assembling resources and allies across the Free Cities. I was lost Ben, yet they gave me a path and a place in this world and for that I am indebted to them._

_The Martells are determined to avenge their sister against the Lannisters and they have shown me things brother, Tywin Lannister and his children plot to further their grasp on the Seven Kingdoms and the East is rallying for the return of the Dragons, a storm is coming and I will shield House Stark from it by any means necessary. No matter how many oceans of blood I have to wade my way through, I will save this family._

_I know this is probably a bit much to take in, but I must ask something of you Ben. There is a keep, partially demolished and completely abandoned that belongs to the Night's Watch, the place is called Greenguard and it lies close to the East. I would ask of you and your Lord Commander if I may be able to use the keep as a supply base when the time comes. I know the Night's Watch does not take part in the affairs of the crown, yet I would be willing to compensate the Watch considerably. _

_Please think on it brother and if you can find it in your heart, forgive me for how I have hurt you. What I do, I do for the good of House Stark. _

_Winter is coming for us all._

Ben sat in silence for a long time after he finished reading. The letter had shaken him to his core and the mass of information that he had just received left him feeling exhausted as he struggled to comprehend it all. He looked over at the letter he had received from Ned and quickly read through it, with Ned confirming that Will was in fact alive and that he had even returned to Winterfell.

"The Night's Watch takes no part." said Ben weakly.

"Aye, but we can accept aid when it is given to us. Your brother has not asked us to fight for him, he merely asks to borrow an unused castle for a time, of which he will repay us." replied Mormont.

"What has he offered you?" asked Ben, his voice full of exhaustion.

"An Army."


	31. Dreams of Honor

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Big thanks to everyone who left a review. :D**

The Feasts almost seemed to last for days as everyone at Winterfell would eat copious amounts and gorge themselves on wine and ale till they collapsed, only to get up the next morning and do it all again come nightfall, yet the northerners would not stop their festivities, especially now that Ned had been named as Hand of the King.

Ned had brought Will and Cat to his chambers that Night and told them both that Robert had given him the title whilst they were in crypts. Of course it was somewhat expected now that Jon Arryn had died but that didn't stop Will from doing everything he could to protest. "It's a rat's nest! They'll stab you in the back the first chance they get Ned!" but of course his brother had merely given him his usual 'lord of Winterfell' look and responded that it was his duty to the King, and that was that. Not even Catelyn could convince him otherwise, despite her mentions of Brandon and Rickard and their own ill-fated trips to Kings Landing.

The fact that his brother was heading directly into Kings Landing, not only the home of his enemies but also the place where his brother and father died had caused a great deal of stress for Will. He could still remember the despondent look in Maester Walys eyes as he told the youngest two Starks that their big brother and sole parent had been murdered at the hands of the Mad King and with all of this talk of court and the Iron Throne he was beginning to feel all of the painful memories resurface from the recesses of his mind.

He knew that his plans for neutrality had become so much more difficult now that Ned was directly working within Kings Landing and at the heart of the Baratheon-Lannister power but he was confident that he and Oberyn could work out a way to have him removed before matters became dangerous, until then he merely had to work all the more discreetly.

Will had been trying his best to be sociable during the feasts but found that drunk southerners weren't his kind of people and that those from the Kings entourage especially seemed overly smug, none more so than the Lannister queen looking down on everything and everyone in the North. Will had to literally bite his tongue more than several times to stifle the many remarks he had whenever the Queen spoke to him or his family.

To make matters worse Will had been forced to sit with Ned and Robert, and was forced to endure the fat man's drunken jests about Will's time in Essos and constantly asked him about foreign whores. Will knew that the man meant no real harm in what he was saying and would likely forget he said it in the morning but that did not stop the Stark's anger from rising with every slurred word that escaped Robert Baratheon's mouth.

Eventually Will had more than he could stomach of the King's company and excused himself, feigning the need to use the privy. As he moved through the crowded hall he managed to catch sight of Ned talking with none other than Jaime Lannister, Will found this quite odd as Ned despised the man and made it well known to all who would listen. Even watching them talk now Will could tell from Ned's body language that he was angry and annoyed by the other man's presence.

"We must talk." Came a familiar voice from behind him.

Turning around Will was faced by his brother Benjen standing behind him and looking particularly haggard and grim. He had lost weight since Will last saw him, and considering that Ben had always been a very slim man he now looked almost sickly. For a moment the two brothers just stood there before finally, hesitantly, they embraced.

It did not last however and Benjen quickly grabbed Will and roughly pulled him outside of the great hall and out into the cold night air. "What in the name of the Gods have you been planning?!"

"Why, the complete and utter destruction of Houses Lannister and Baratheon and the restoration of the Targaryen dynasty of course." Replied Will nonchalantly.

Benjen's icy blue eyes widened in shock at his brothers words and he quickly grabbed Will by the collar and shook him viciously. "Are you completely MAD? Do you forget what Aerys Targaryen did our father? Do you forget about how Brandon choked himself to death trying to save him?"

"I FORGET NOTHING!" shouted Will as he pushed his brother back violently. "Unlike everyone else in this fucking country I do not begrudge children the sins of their father."

Ben shook his head in disgust. "This is a betrayal of Robert."

"Betrayal?" asked Will in disbelief as he slowly felt himself getting worked up. "Robert has betrayed the entire bloody realm! While he drinks and whores himself to death the seven kingdoms continue to sink further and further into debt, what kind of a king is that? Tywin Lannister's claws have sunken so deeply within the Iron Throne that it'll only be a matter of time before he turns on us. We have to be ready."

"Can you hear yourself? Plotting and scheming…..the Martells have poisoned your mind. What happened to that charming little boy who used to dream of being a knight and living a life of honor?" asked Ben, his voice thick with concern.

"…He woke up and realized that honor can only get your loved ones killed." Replied Will forlornly.

Ben gave a deep sigh and rubbed his face in agitation and looked as if he wanted to say something else but instead began to pace about the cold snowy grounds, struggling with something deep inside of himself.

"I ought to tell Ned what you're planning, perhaps if we kept you somewhere for a while this nonsensical notion would fade….but even in the North you still have influence, Mormont has accepted your damned offer .Seven Hells, what a mess…." Benjen's voice sounded so very weary, as of his anger took too much effort to maintain.

"So what will you do?"

Ben brought his icy eyes to Will and look of disgust crossed his long face. "I will keep silent, for The Watch. But don't expect me to forgive you of this madness; don't expect anything from me anymore."

* * *

Since his argument with Benjen his brother had not said a word to him or even really acknowledged his presence when they were with the family. Will was hurt yet knew better than to press the issue and attract attention from Catelyn or Ned, whom were themselves too busy with their duties hosting the King's entourage to notice the tension between the two brothers.

Eventually Will's anxiety over matters with Benjen and Ned seemed to almost overwhelm him and he took solace in the isolation of the Godswood as he silently prayed to his Gods for strength in the days ahead.

"I've never understood how exactly you Northerners went about praying to your gods" came an arrogant voice from behind him. "If I were to carve a face into an oak down in the Westerlands would your gods see me? Or are they picky about which trees they live in? And what of termites, are they some great evil to your people?"

Will turned to see Jaime Lannister leaning up against one of the old trees lazily, his golden hair and shining white armor standing out in the greens and browns of the Godswood. Stark gave a small grin at the man and rose to his feet and walked over towards the Kingslayer.

"Religion can be very tricky Ser Jaime. For instance, I've never understood how all your seven gods are actually one….the Smith, the Maiden...does that mean that it has both a cock and a cunt?"

The Kingslayer laughed at that. "Finally someone from the North with a sense of humor, I was beginning to think that you were all so fucking grim."

"We are a rare breed, but there are a few of us." He replied with a slight smile before a realization struck him. "You were there during the Siege of Pyke weren't you?"

Lannister smiled thinly at that. "Indeed I was. I vaguely recall you on the first charge, after Thoros of Myr had done his little fire trick."

"Aye that was the most insane thing I've ever seen."

"Not nearly as insane as seeing that Greyjoy here in Winterfell, that was quite disconcerting."

Will shrugged at that. "I dislike the boy too, though Ned was merely doing as Robert demanded."

The Kingslayer smiled at that, yet there was a deep sense of bitterness there as it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes he's very good at that isn't he? Doing what others tell him, following the rules. The man would have made an excellent kingsgaurd."

Will frowned. "Some men take their oaths more seriously than others."

A flash of anger came across the Kingslayer's features changing his once handsome face into a mask of seething rage. "And you think there's honor in that? Taking vows to protect a man but then standing by and watching as he tortures and brutalizes innocents, does that make one honorable? Is that what your hypocrite of a brother would do? I was the only one who had the courage to end that evil."

And with that he stormed from the Godswood, leaving Will alone with his thoughts and broken dreams of morality and heroism.

* * *

The next day Will was asked to join Ned and Robert out on a hunt with them, or more precisely Robert commanded that he join them. So being the dutiful brother that he was he arose early in the morning with the rest of the entourage, something that he hated immensely. _I've lost so much sleep these last few days, let me rest…_

It wasn't all bad though, as he had Robb to help keep his spirits up as they rode out, and his nephew seemed to be in a good mood the morning, no doubt enjoying the interest and attention he had received from the southerners.

"So after father goes to Kings Landing will you join him Uncle?" asked Robb as they rode out behind Robert and Ned after some stag that they had thought they saw.

"No….I mislike the crowded streets and busy people. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for some time." He replied with a smirk.

"Well, it'll be a relief having someone I know to help me run things, and it'll make Bran and the girls absence easier." He said happily as he tried to keep his eyes focused on his father and Robert up ahead.

"Well you'll still have me and Jon around to keep you on your toes." He said as he urged his horse forward now that Robert and Ned and the hunting dogs were suddenly after a large Stag bolting off into the thicker parts of the wolfwood.

They rode after it for some time before Robert and his Kingsgaurd managed to corner the poor thing and the Baratheon thrust at it with a spear, piercing the frightened beast's heart and quickly ending its struggle in a brief display of gore. Will enjoyed a hunt as much as the next man, but even he thought that sending an entire royal guard out after a single animal was overkill.

After it was done and they made their way back through the woods to Winterfell Robb caught up with him again. "What did you mean back there about Jon?" he asked curiously.

"I meant that you'll have two of us to help out once your father leaves." explained Will nonchalantly.

Robb stared at him in confusion. "Haven't you heard? Jon's going to the Wall with uncle Benjen after Father and the King leave."

"What do you-"

But before Robb could speak Jory came riding up to them out of breath and with a frightful look on his face. "Robb….Will….there's….there's been an accident!" he said as he struggled to catch his breath and tell them everything.

"Accident? What happened Jory?" asked Will as he felt panic begin to rise in the back of his head.

"Bran….he fell."


	32. Fever Dream

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, life got in the way as it often does. Once again a big thank you to all who left a review and/or followed and favourited the story.**

Bran had lain in an unconscious state for days on end with no sign of waking and a gloom of misery and grief had fallen over the entire castle putting a damper on the King's usual antics. Will had gone straight to the boy's room as soon as he had heard and found Catelyn sitting beside him deep in prayer.

His good-sister understandably looked an absolute wreck with her hair in disarray and her eyes bloodshot from the almost constant stream of tears that were flowing from them. Will couldn't possibly imagine the pain she was going through, true he felt grief as well for his nephew but that paled in comparison to the agony a parent-especially a mother- would feel.

When Catelyn saw Will however, her face seemed to shift from that of sadness to extreme anger as she rose from her son's bedside, her whole body shaking with barely contained fury. "You…" she hissed. "You had to fill his head with all that climbing nonsense! Well are you happy now? My son may never walk again because of you!"

"Cat please, I-"

"Get out….. !" she screamed, causing Will to flinch back slightly before he gave her a slight nod and looked at Bran one final time before leaving the room.

Since then Will had cut himself off from the rest of the castle and barely left his chambers except to occasionally take out his frustrations in the practice yard. He buried himself in every manner of book he could get his hands on and reread over old letters he had received from the Serpents, old battle plans that he had written up hastily during his time in the Disputed Lands and vaguely wondered what had become of the child hostages that he had allowed to be taken. Were they safe? Were they being looked after? He had no way of knowing and that uncertainty plagued his mind like an insect buzzing around his head and further added to the guilt he felt.

The sensation of his life crumbling around him was almost tangible to Will and he found that Cat's words continued to haunt him through the nights, rendering sleep nothing but a happy fantasy as he tossed and turned in his bed. At first he sought to drown his guilt with wine but soon even the pleasant numbness of inebriation was not enough to keep his melancholy at bay.

He was almost lost in a sea of self-pity and doubt when on one night while rereading a letter he had received from an old Braavosi ally from his Serpent days he suddenly recalled a method he had been taught long ago in Essos and quickly rummaged through his things until he found what he was looking for: a small vile that was covered in Valyrian runes.

The murky blue substance that was contained within the vile was supposedly made by the Warlocks of Qarth and had been gifted to Will after saving Lord Tyberyan's daughter years ago in Volantis. Oberyn had cautioned him on its use and how it could drive a person mad if consumed too much, and Will had mostly listened to him but he was also aware that such a substance could open the mind if taken in extreme moderation.

He carefully stared down into the vile in hesitation before quickly taking a small mouthful of the putrid tasting substance and sat himself in front of his hearth. He slowly began to relax his body and eased his breathing and let his thoughts go as he absently closed his eyes and ears to the outside world.

Time began to fade around him and he felt himself floating adrift through the rivers of his mindscape, thoughts and dreams long since forgotten were now slowly opening themselves up to him. He saw Jorah Mormont throw a burning torch high into the night sky on the isles of Pyke and marveled as an explosion of flames swept past him and through his body and wrapped everything in bright fire before blowing away suddenly in a huge gust of wind and reshaping into the ravenous figure of Reek as he danced through a hallway of shattered glass, each step leaving a bloody pool in its wake, and by the time he reached Will the entire floor was nothing but a sea of crimson and monstrous odor.

Will felt a dagger in his hand and instinctively stabbed at the wild figure, yet when he looked down at the corpse before him he saw the face of Domeric Bolton looking up at him in an expression of unbridled horror. Will tried desperately to help his friend only to realize that he was sinking in the pool of blood beneath his feet which was now steadily rising upwards and upwards until finally the Stark found himself submerged in a horrible crimson.

The images around him began to shift in a blur of colors and suddenly he was lying in bed with Nymeria in some room in Pentos, a cool breeze blowing in from the open window beside their large silken bed. Nym was resting her head on his chest and slowly began running her fingers over the numerous scars that littered his body.

_"Where did you get this one from?"_ she asked as she traced the jagged mark near his collar bone.

"_That was a Tyroshi vanguard's axe." _

Nymeria smirked at that and kissed the scar before bringing her finger down to the red mark that sat over his left pectoral. _ "And this?"_

_"An Ironman's arrow, if I was standing three inches to the left then it'd have got my heart…something I no longer fear now that you have it for safe keeping." _ He replied with a crooked grin.

Nym looked away with a little smile of her own, clearly happy with the compliment he had paid her and continued her explorations of his body, kissing her way down with each scar that littered his abdomen until she came to a nearly faded scratch on his navel and with a cheeky grin began to kiss her way even further downwards.

Yet as she went about pull down his breeches Will caught sight of something he had never seen on her before despite the many times he had spent exploring her; on the underside of her left wrist were two small piercing wounds, slightly larger than pin pricks and he stopped her actions.

"_Where does that come from?"_ He asked curiously.

She looked down at the twin dots on her arm and for a moment the sultry look on her face fell and was replaced by an expression of deep concentration as she was lost in heavy thought. Finally she looked back at Will with a half-smile. _"That was the result of childhood stupidity. When I was still small, maybe four or five, I used to watch my father catch vipers with his bare hands, and…..one day I tried to do it too and got poisoned for my efforts. I spent a week in bed recovering from the venom…I can still remember the things I saw in my deliria. "_

Will sat up at that and instinctively brought himself closer to her then, as if the danger to her was still present. He showed her his own marred hand, the two small puncture wounds on his palm. "_I was bitten once…sometimes at night I can still hear my father's disapproval and taunts or the sweet words of encouragement from my sister. It was a hallucination, the poison was flowing through my heart and turning my blood into bile yet those images, they kept me alive….do you…think that the dead judge us?"_

_"I don't think they care. I think….life is for the living."_ And with that she crushed her lips against his and pushed him down onto the bed.

* * *

When Will finally opened his eyes he was back in his room still sitting cross legged in front of his now dead hearth and to his surprise the sun was shining in through his window. _Have I been sitting here all night?_

Leaning on his bedpost for support he slowly rose to his feet only to nearly topple over from the numbness of disuse that came from sitting for over twelve hours. With a little coaxing and slow movement he was able to shake the tingling feeling from his legs and began pacing around the room to rid himself the of pent up energy.

He wondered what the meaning behind his visions were as it was said that Shade of the Evening was a fickle beast to control; blurring dreams and memory with prophetic visions and sometimes it didn't even show that. Most of what he had seen was nightmarish and horrid yet he knew for a fact that he had indeed told Nymeria of his scars before, perhaps he had simply seen his memories reflected back through a distortion before the thought of Nym centered his mind.

_Life is for the living…._

Her words played in his mind over and over, each time becoming louder and louder until suddenly Will found that he could no longer sit in his dark room and brood over things beyond his control. He knew he couldn't wait any longer; things had to accelerate and if he didn't act fast his family would be torn asunder.

After he cleaned the sweat from himself and fully dressed into his knightly clothing he left his chambers for the first time in nearly a week and headed straight for Ned's study. Inside Ned and Maester Luwin were discussing something intently but swiftly fell silent when they saw Will enter. He felt somewhat betrayed by this little display of mistrust but tossed it aside and continued onwards, nothing extinguishing the fire that had been lit in his chest.

"Maester Luwin could you please excuse us a moment?" he asked without taking his eyes off of Ned, while the old man bowed stiffly and shuffled from the room leaving the two Starks alone.

"What do you need Pup?" asked Ned curiously.

"You still intend to go to Kings Landing?"

"I do."

"What of Bran? He lies at the gates of death and you just plan to run off with Robert bloody Baratheon?!" asked Will, his voice full of indignation.

Ned's eyes instantly froze over and Will could tell that his brother was getting ready to assume his 'lord of Winterfell' demeanor. "It's not just Robert who needs me; it's the whole damned realm, what kind of a man would I be if I just let his kingdom fall into ruin?"

Will tried to calm himself before his temper got the better of him and opted for a more diplomatic response. "There is no honor in the South; they'll stab you in the back the first chance they get."

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" barked Ned suddenly. "I have made a promise and I won't break it."

Will knew then that it was a lost cause and that nothing would change his stubborn brother's mind and to that he only felt a vague numbness as he accepted the fact. He gave Ned a final look in an attempt to memorize his face before walking out of the chamber in a hurry. Things were about to get so much more messy now and he would have to directly work against his brother to save him.

* * *

Will decided to burn off some steam on a practice dummy when he caught sight of Jon speaking with Jory Cassel over near the armory. He remembered what Robb had told him right before Bran had his fall, how Jon planned on taking the black with Ben, the thought irritated him to no end and he knew he had to straighten his nephew out somehow and stormed over to him.

"What's all this I hear about you joining the Night's Watch?" he asked gruffly, catching the boy off his guard.

"I... Lady Stark doesn't want me to stay here once father makes his way south and…and even if I could stay what do I have to look forward to? What life do I have ahead of me here? There's great honor to be found in the Night's Watch regardless of one's birth."

Will pinched the ridge of his nose in frustration at that. "You have no idea what you'd be giving up! A family, a chance at happiness! Don't waste your life lad."

Jon looked at Will bitterly then. "Either way I'll never have any of those things! What name can I give a woman? What name can I give a child? I can't even stay with my siblings…"

"You can come back to the Wolf's Den with me." He said suddenly without thinking.

Jon looked at him wide eyed in shock as he stared at Will. "W-what?"

"I'll name you my heir, and you can stay there with me once everything gets sorted here with Bran." He said calmly.

"But….I'm a bastard, I can't inherit…"

Will just waved it off. "Piss on that! I'll have Robert legitimize you and then you can choose whatever name you like and have your own family after I've croaked."

"Uncle, I….I don't know what to say..." replied Jon in amazement as he struggled to take in everything Will had just offered him.

"Say yes! And put all of this other nonsense from your mind." He said gruffly before slapping the young man on the shoulder and briskly walking off.

_Now for the hard part…_ Will knew that he had to find Benjen and convince him to let Jon come with him and abandon his ideas of joining the Watch. His brother wouldn't be easily talked down and things would only be confounded by his already embittered feelings towards Will, yet he wouldn't let his big brother talk him down or intimidate him; if no one else was going to look after Jon then he would.

He looked around the castle for a while, vaguely asking around for his brother in an attempt to kill time when he knew for a fact that his brother was praying in the Godswood. After stopping by the kitchens and grabbing a bite to eat he managed to steel himself and head off to the home of his Gods and confront his estranged brother.

When he entered Will found Benjen deep in prayer before the Weirwood, what exactly he was praying for was a mystery to the younger brother and he decided that whatever it was it wasn't as important as what he needed to say so he loudly cleared his throat to alert his brother to his presence.

Ben looked up at Will and his face instantly turned to a frown and he made to get up and leave before Will blocked off his path and with a frown of his own spoke. "We must needs to talk about Jon. He's not going to the Wall." He told his brother firmly.

If it was possible Benjen's face became even more grim than usual. "It's his choice."

"It's no choice when you think you have no other options. I have offered to take him back to Wolf's Den when I leave." said Will calmly.

Benjen's face twisted into a snarl at that. "Why, So that you can involve him into your little schemes? You would use your own blood as a tool in your game?"

Will felt his own anger rising, but managed to keep himself in check, knowing that it would not do for him to fly off the handle at his brother's provocations. "No games, no schemes. I don't want to see him give up his life before it has even begun. He will be my heir and when I die the Wolf's Den will be his."

Benjen wouldn't have it. "I don't want him to join the Watch either, but better there than with _you_, your madness will not touch Jon, I won't let it happen, not to her son."

As soon as Benjen finished his sentence he suddenly recoiled as if he'd been struck when he realized what he had said and it was not lost on Will. Like the wolf his family took as its sigil he latched onto that right away, his curiosity at its peak.

"Her? Who are you referring to? You know who the boy's mother is? Tell me." He said firmly.

Benjen just looked away in defeat, a wounded look on his face.

Will's anger, his wolf's blood, began to flare up at his brother's silence and he clenched his fists at his side. _The coward won't even look at me _he thought bitterly as he continued to watch his brother. Finally the silence was too much and he let the Wolf out of its cage and grabbed Benjen by the collar and pushed him against the weirwood.

"Damn you Ben, tell me or I'll _beat_ it out of you! Who is Jon's mother?!" growled Will.

Weakly Ben looked at Will and with tears running down his blue eyes whispered something, it was barely audible and Will had to strain his ears to hear it but it struck him like a thunderous shout.

"Lyanna."


	33. Old Hurts

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thanks again to all those who followed, favourited and left a review!**

**_Willam_**

_Lyanna, Lyanna, Lyanna _

His sister's name continued to repeat through his mind as he stared uncomprehendingly at Benjen. What did his brother mean_? Lyanna is Jon's mother, is he trying to confuse me? What game are you playing Ben?_

"What is this madness? You better start making sense, brother or not I'll break your jaw." growled Will.

However the threat seemed lost on Benjen as he looked off into the distance, his mind far away as he recalled a story that had been told to him many years ago, a vague sense of pain lining his worn features as he tried to bring the memories to surface. After what seemed like an age he finally found his words.

"Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen….after they ran off together they were wed in secret at the Tower of Joy where she stayed for the rebellion ….until Ned found her." His throat seemed to constrict then and it looked as if the words were physically hurting Benjen to release. "He found her in a bed of blood, half dead from fever and a screaming newborn in her arms….Jon. She, she made Ned swear, made him _promise_ to keep Jon safe, to protect him from Robert's wrath…"

"So Ned besmirched his own honor and claimed the boy as his bastard son." Stated Will numbly, realization dawning on him.

Benjen nodded solemnly and slumped to the ground beneath the Weirwood in defeat and grief. Will did the same as he felt the weight of his old loss be dug up again with this new revelation, his sister, his sweet brave sister had left a child in the world and he was living right under Will's nose the whole time._ And Ned….everything with Catelyn, his loss of honor…he takes that on willingly._

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked after a while, his voice full of sadness rather than outrage.

A slight scowl crossed Ben's features then. "You were a child; we could hardly trust you with a secret like that, all it would have taken was a single slip up and the boy would be dead."

"Why didn't you tell me latter? When I was old enough?" he asked again with a frown.

"Oh yes, you matured didn't you? Running off to fight the Greyjoys ahead of everyone else, playing at being a tourney knight in the south and then running away to hide in the Free Cities when that didn't work out…how could we trust you with that responsibility? I'm telling you _now_ so that you won't use him in your plan against the Iron Throne." replied Ben with a bitter sigh.

Will couldn't even find the strength to get angry at his brother anymore. He had already lost whatever relationship they once shared as children and right now his main concern was salvaging what was left of the his family, in whatever way he could.

"Let's go see Ned."

* * *

**_Eddard_**

Ned was not having a good day.

Ever since he had accepted the position of Hand he was forced with the dual challenge of not only packing up and moving a good portion of his household to Kings Landing but also making sure everything would remain running in Winterfell after he had gone. Normally he would trust Catelyn with such matters but after Bran had fallen his wife had not left their son's bedside. Maester Luwin had confirmed that Bran would recover but that he would very likely be a cripple for the rest of his life. The thought that his son would never walk again, never be a knight like he had always dreamed of or know the love of a woman made Ned's heart ache with grief yet he knew all he could do was be strong and supportive for his boy in the days to come.

While Ned was busy taking inventory in his study with Poole Will and Benjen came walking in, each with an unusually grim expression on their face. He raised a brow at them but then politely asked Poole to give him and his younger siblings a moment alone and as soon as the other man had left Will gave him an odd look and suddenly spoke.

"I know about Jon….and Lyanna."

With that single sentence Ned felt like he had been struck a harsh blow and sat down in a chair by his desk, running a hand through his dark locks and giving a deep sigh. He knew something like this would come someday he had just never thought that it would be in such circumstances.

"You told him." he said to Benjen, a statement rather than a question.

"He means to take Jon back to the Wolf's Den with him."

He looked at his youngest brother for confirmation and he gave him a firm look, standing up straighter at his gaze, his stance fiercer. _Oh Pup, why must everything be a struggle with you?_

"Your wife has forbade him from staying here after you leave; if no one else wants him then I'll gladly take him back to White Harbor with me." Replied Will, his silver eyes set on Ned's own.

Benjen however was having none of it. "He can come with me, he can join the Watch under my protection….Ned, can you really trust Lyanna's son with Willam? You _know_ how reckless he is."

Will scoffed at that. "Oh and you think that chaining him to the Night's Watch is safe? You'll rob him of a future! At least as my heir he can inherit a keep, and start a family someday."

After that the two broke out into a long and heated argument about what they both thought was best for Jon and the shouting continued to escalate until Ned finally had enough of his brothers petulant arguing and took a deep breath before suddenly slamming his palm flat against his desk.

"ENOUGH! Both of you are acting like children and I'll not have it!" he told them in the same tone he would use whenever Arya or Bran would get into trouble. He turned to his middle brother with a frown "Ben I know better than anyone how reckless Pup can be, and you forget that being reckless is in our blood." He then turned to his youngest brother. "And you, do you have any idea what you're saying? Taking Jon as your heir? Once he is legitimized there is no turning back, as your heir he would stand to receive the Wolf's Den over any sons you might father….this is extremely serious Will, do you understand what you'd be giving up?"

Ned watched as his youngest brother made a face. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on in Will's head at that moment but his face seemed to drain of color for a moment but then the gears of his mind seemed to slowly wind back up again and in a quiet voice he said "My sons will not live in White Harbor."

Ned wondered what he meant by that but judging from his brother's solemn expression and grave tone he knew that Will would not go back on his word. He considered things for a moment, everything that had transpired and the opportunity that his youngest brother had given Jon. He could still recall the ardent look of desperation in Lyanna's silver eyes and she tearfully begged him to take her son, and the promise he made as he felt her die in his arms. It had been painful, looking at Jon every day and seeing his sister but it reaffirmed his belief that what he was doing was right.

He could also remember back when they were children, Will would always follow Lya around like a lost puppy and whenever he had a nightmare it wasn't Ned or Brandon or even their father he went to; it was Lyanna. No, Ned did not doubt Will's love for their sister and he knew that whatever his brother's faults he'd die before he let anything happen to Lyanna's son. _Mayhaps…_

"I want you to promise me. Promise me like I promised Lyanna." He said finally, his tone giving no room for argument.

Will took a step forward and looked deep into Ned's eyes as he spoke. "I promise. By the Old Gods, the Seven New Gods and the Red God of the east I promise that I will protect Jon from all harm."

Ned was satisfied with that yet something was still nagging at him. "I'll have to ask Robert to legitimize Jon as _your_ heir; even still…Cat won't like this."

"Give her time Ned, she'll get over it and things will be as they were." Said Benjen

Ned didn't reply, he knew deep down that despite his brothers reassurances nothing would be the same.

* * *

**_Domeric _**

_He's alive._

That was the single thought that raced through Domeric's head after he finished reading Edrick's letter. The young knight often kept in correspondence with the Lord of the Dreadfort and while Domeric did enjoy reading about his young friend's exploits he had lately found that things around his household needed his attention first.

Ever since his father had died Dom found an almost overbearing sense of pressure running his family's lands and castle. It was not that he was unprepared or that he had no idea what he was doing, it was just that his father's shadow still hadn't faded from the hearts and minds of his people and Domeric wanted more than anything to redeem his family's past and, most of all, he wanted to leave his future children a legacy they could be proud of, not the madness and horror that he had to grow up with. Myranda was due to give birth within a moon's turn and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for his firstborn's entry into the world.

So while he had been busy attending to all manner of tedious arrangements and trying to look like a kind lord to the smallfolk he had neglected his old squire's letter but after finally sitting down to read it that night he found that he could not move from his desk, as he struggled to think some reply to Edrick and to Winterfell. _Out of the blue my best friend returns from the grave….what does one say to that?_

Domeric was unable to think of an answer so here he sat, trying desperately to sum up his feelings of shock, joy and anger in the right words. Of course things would be much simpler if he could just go to Winterfell himself and speak to Will in person, but he such a thing would be irresponsible especially with Myranda in such a delicate state.

His lack of action and progress caused him to brood over his feelings and his memories of growing up with the young Stark and all the adventures they had shared in. It was Will who had kept him and his men alive during the Greyjoy Rebellion and it was Will who had caught his mother's murderer; Domeric truly felt that such a man would be his closest friend until the day he died yet Will had run off, left them all and let them believe he was dead for seven years. _Is that truly the actions of a friend?_

Suddenly he was shaken from his thoughts by a gentle hand running down his shirt and looking up he found his wife looking over his shoulder trying to read the various letters he had half started and discarded.

"What are you doing Dom? It's nearly midnight, come to bed." She complained in a soft voice.

He looked down at the papers that littered his desk and closed his eyes for a moment before turning to look at Myranda with a serious expression. "Who's your best friend?" he asked tiredly.

Myranda looked puzzled by that but actually seemed to indulge her husband's oddness and gave the question some thought. "You mean my bestest _best_ friend?"

Dom smiled a little at his wife's wording and nodded.

"Well I used to think Mya…..but now I'm not so sure, why?"

Dom looked at the letters once more and tried to look through the hastily scribbled words to see if they could offer any assistance before slowly bringing his gaze back to Myranda. His tired pale eyes almost pleading to his wife's own brown orbs. "I think….the Gods have brought my best friend back to life….and I'm not sure if that's a good thing….or if it's just an invitation for more misery."


	34. Seperate Ways

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the story, it really does keep me going.**

Jon's legitimization was an odd affair. Robert had apparently been happy to do his old friend the favor of legitimizing his bastard and after downing a large cup of ale announced that they were all to go out to the courtyard and bear witness.

Will ushered his nephew over to the king who smiled drunkenly. "So you're to be Will's heir ey lad? Well alright let's get this over with." He said before speaking in a commanding voice. "I, Robert first of his name….well you all know my damned titles, I Robert do legitimize you with all my authority as Protector of the Realm. Jon Snow rise as Jon Stark of White Harbor!"

The newly christened Stark rose from the muddy ground and was met with a firm slap on the shoulder from Robert who gave a hearty laugh before marching back inside where his ale and whores awaited him. Afterwards several members of the crowd came up and congratulated Jon including Robb and Arya whom hugged him dearly, Ned and Benjen likewise came over and said their congratulations though they were much more subdued about it.

Will smiled to himself at the happy scene and walked off to the Godswood, to try and pray for what was undoubtedly going to be trouble in the coming weeks. Perhaps it was the idea that his family were spinning tediously close to the edge of a Southron war, or perhaps it was his lack of sleep but Will found himself becoming very anxious the longer he stayed in Winterfell, something he once thought impossible. _Is this place even truly my home anymore? If not….then where is? _He looked up at the tall weirwood before him, trying to find answers in the sad, carved face yet found no response.

Eventually he made his way into the Great Hall and sat with Jory Cassel, enjoying more than a few horns of ale and a nice slice of roast beef. The two had begun exchanging war stories from the Greyjoy Rebellion and it wasn't long before Robert had overheard them and unceremoniously sat beside them followed by his numerous Kingsgaurd.

"Talking about the squids ey? HA! Those were the days! A spear in hand and screaming Ironman running at ya, nothing like it!" bellowed Robert with a laugh before leaning close to Will with a deadly serious look. "When they told me that Lyanna's littlest brother had gone off ahead of everyone else to fight those Greyjoys I nearly died of fright; I could still remember you tugging after her skirts, how would a small pup like you be able to survive against a swarm of angry Ironmen?"

The men fell silent at the king's cold voice before suddenly he broke out into chuckle and smiled at Will with a look of genuine warmth that had not been seen on Robert in a long time. "You showed us all that day, young or old, the wolf has fangs."

"I was lucky; Balon was too busy with everyone else to notice a small band of foolish northerners running up his shores." Replied Will with a shrug only to be met by laughter from the Baratheon.

"Stop being so damned modest, I saw you cut down a dozen great warriors, even Balon's own son! If there comes a day when I need another rebellion quashed you'll be the first one I turn to!"

Will feigned a smile and brought his horn of ale to Robert's in a toast before taking a mouthful, his fake smile slowly turning into a wicked grin as he realized the irony of the King's words. _You'll know what I can do soon enough Robert…._

* * *

The days rolled on and eventually Ned and Robert realized that they could no longer procrastinate at Winterfell despite Bran's current state; there was much work to be done in the realm it seemed and the King and his Hand were in dire need back at the capitol, and Ned's departure signaled Will's own.

There were many tearful goodbyes amongst the children as Sansa and Arya went south while Robb, Rickon and Bran remained at Winterfell, Jon said his goodbyes to his siblings as well but asked Will to accompany him when he went to see Bran for a final time. Will readily agreed, knowing how Cat would react to his presence, especially now that her fears had come to pass and Jon had been legitimized.

And just as he suspected the woman had glared daggers at the two as they entered and moved to block them off from Bran, however Will gave her a deathly look of his own that managed to stay her actions and allowed Jon to go over and whisper a tearful goodbye to his little brother.

"I'm going to White Harbor with Uncle Will, I'm to help him run the Wolf's Den….you can come visit us when you get better, we'll…we'll walk along the docks and watch the trading ships come to port…" choked out Jon as he stroked his brothers hair absently before stepping away. Will uttered a silent prayer for his nephew but otherwise remained impassive until Jon was ready to leave.

"I don't want to see either of you again." whispered Cat harshly from behind them.

Will looked at his good sister coldly but simply led Jon from the room without another word. As they made their way down the hallway Will turned to his nephew and put a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Don't pay her any mind lad."

Jon looked up at his uncle with a glum expression, one that had been created from years of coldness from that woman. "She has no reason to like me; I don't hold Lady Stark's behavior against her."

Will's face instantly turned into a scowl. "I do. Catelyn Tully was not your father's choice; he wasn't even Brandon's choice….my father in his infinite wisdom decided that his children should be connected to the great houses of the South."

"Why did Grandfather care about the South?"

"He fought alongside many of Southron lords during the War of the Ninepenny Kings, somewhere along the line he got it into his head that he could have an influence throughout the south by marrying us all off."

Jon looked at him curiously. "You sound as if you hated him…"

Will gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes as if he were in pain, he remembered how Lyanna had raged and cried when he told them that she was to wed Robert. "I didn't hate him. He was not a bad man and he was a good lord to his people…..it's just…he was not the sort of man who understood the feelings of others… he didn't understand what we really needed from him."

Jon nodded absently at that and the two remained silent for a time until they finally came to the courtyard and Jon turned to Will with an odd look. "Uncle….do you mind if I went to see Arya? I need to give her something before we leave."

"Alright, but don't take too long; we leave at noon."

After Jon had left Will decided to take a final stroll about the grounds of Winterfell in an attempt to engrave its details into his memory, for some reason he felt that it would be a very long time before he stepped foot in his family's ancestral home again.

He had almost walked a complete perimeter of the castle when he realized that he had unconsciously been making his way towards the crypts and with a sad sigh he went down into the darkness that his family now slept in. He paused when he saw his mother's tomb and gently touched the cold rock for a moment in a feeble attempt to gain a connection with the woman who had died for him, and wondered not for the first time how different things would have been if she had lived. _Would father still have sent Ned off with Jon Arryn? Would Lya be forced into a marriage she hated? _ The possibilities were maddening.

Will caught sight of his father's likeness standing above his tomb and almost caught himself smiling at the irony that his father was the same in death as he was in life: made of stone. Will only allowed himself a brief moment to gaze at his dead father before he began to remember his time on the mountain and his thoughts turned sour.

Finally he stood before Lyanna's tomb. So much had changed since he had last been here, things were so much clearer in his life and his guilt of the past had been long since buried by experiences in the east. Things had changed so much that Will found he could hardly even mourn his sister as he once did with the knowledge that part of her still lived on through Jon. _How am I going to keep this from him? _

He shook away his weak thoughts and instead looked at the statue of his sister. "I know I'm not perfect Lya…Gods know I've made my fair share of mistakes, but….I swear big sister, I'll keep your son safe." Suddenly he felt the words stick in his throat and his vision began to blur with tears. "I'll look after him like you looked after me." Will tried to compose himself and furiously rubbed at his eyes to rid himself of the tears. "I uh….I have to go but wherever you are, just know that…we miss you, all of us."

* * *

It was not long after his visit in the crypts that the King and all of his entourage were ready to return to the capitol with Ned and half of his household guards in tow. Jon was ready for him by the stables, a look of quiet excitement on his face.

"Are you ready to say goodbye to this place?" he asked his nephew.

Jon looked off at the ancient castle for a time before finally giving a solemn nod. Will tried to smile and then got atop his horse and waited while Jon did the same, the two then rode out the front gates alongside the rest of the northmen who were travelling south. Will quickly pointed out where Ned and Benjen were waiting ahead of the others and accompanied his nephew over to them.

The four Starks met together for a final time then, all of them knowing that it was unlikely that they would see each other for some time. Ned almost looked pained as he quietly spoke to Jon while Will awkwardly turned to Ben, trying to think of something, anything to say.

"Do you remember when there was a time when we could tell each other anything, without fear or hesitation?" asked Will sadly before looking up at his brother with pleading eyes. "I know I've made choices that you don't agree with, but please….don't hate me."

Ben's eyes, which looked so much like chips of blue ice, seemed to melt a little then and came alive with some buried warmth, and a shadow of a smile formed across his long face. "I could never hate you Pup, despite everything you're still my baby brother." And with that the First Ranger of the Night's Watch pulled Will into a tight embrace.

After a while he hesitantly broke off and turned to his eldest brother whom looked at him with a mixture of pride and worry before pulling him in to a hug of his own. "I don't know when I'll see you next, both of you, but be safe, and look after the boy."

The younger Stark nodded. "I will, you just worry about sorting things out in the capitol."

After that the three sons of Rickard Stark went their own ways, with Benjen returning north to the Watch and Ned going to the Neck with Robert while Will and Jon rode for White Harbor. Once they had ridden far enough and Winterfell was no longer in sight Jon seemed to grow a little grimmer, as if it had finally hit that he wasn't going to see his siblings again.

"Father always said that when winter comes the lone wolf dies and the pack survives." He said sadly.

"Sometimes the lone wolf can save the pack, if he's brave enough." Replied Will absently, wondering if he'd have the courage for what was to come.


	35. Crime and Punishment

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

"As knight of the Wolf's Den, it is my duty to not only protect White Harbor from outside forces, but to also help Lord Manderly dispense justice to its citizens."

Will had explained this to Jon before when he was younger but felt the need to go over it again now that Jon was officially his heir. Lord Manderly, upon seeing Will's return had of course thrown a feast in his and Jon's honor in which all the various lords and ladies came to attend. While Jon seemed a little put off by the attention that was being lavished upon him, Will reminded his nephew that he was now "officially" a son of Ned Stark and thus had to play a more active role with the other highborn lords of the North.

"Who knows" said Will "You might even find a future wife here."

Jon had blushed fiercely at that causing his uncle to give a low chuckle as they took their seats beside lord Manderly and his kin, all of whom had nothing but congratulations and praise for Jon's legitimization and appointment to their city while the young Stark tried his best to thank them and promised he would not let them down.

"What is new from the east Ser Willam?" asked lord Wyman in between spoonfuls of soup.

Will gave a small laugh at the question. "The east is as it has always been; the various merchant lords squabble over trading routes and the many sellsword bands fight and die for a cause that is not their own. But in terms of actual news….the Volantians are looking to elect new leaders, though it will undoubtedly be an Elephant majority once again."

"Did you go to Volantis Ser?" asked young Wylla Manderly from her seat, an excited look on her face.

"Indeed I did my lady; Lord Tyberyan is a good friend of mine and showed the hospitality of Volantis, I believe he is currently in the running to be elected Triarch." Replied Will with a smile.

They continued to chat away about various topics for a time while eating the delicacies that Lord Wyman had insisted be brought out for the Starks arrival. Will continued to make small talk with the merman lord and would nod and laugh at the various jokes the man made yet he also kept his attention on Jon who was quietly talking to Lord Wyman's eldest granddaughter Lady Wynafryd who was sitting beside him, a slight grin on her face as she spoke to him in hushed tones.

Suddenly Will felt eyes on him as several of the Manderlys looked at him expectantly. "Pardons my lord, could you repeat that?"

Wylis Manderly coughed to himself and repeated his question. "I've heard that you're quite talented with a harp Ser, would you give us the honor of hearing it some time?"

The wolf knight shifted in his seat but gave a false smile none the less. "Of course my lord, though I'm afraid my talents have been overstated…I merely dabble in the musical art as a hobby."

The heir of White Harbor merely waved away his statement and gestured for one of the musicians to bring forth a harp that was being unused and had it positioned in front of the dais so that the whole table could watch. Swallowing his discomfort he rose from the table and sat down on the chair behind the harp, gentle checking the strings and flexing his fingers as before slowly bringing them over the instrument.

It took him a moment before he could decide what song to play before he finally settled on 'Dance of the Dragons' and began to swiftly move his fingers up and down the various strings to melody of the song that was playing in his head. His eyes furrowed in concentration as he begun to move along the strings at a quickening pace that was meant to represent Queen Rhaenyra being eaten by her brother's dragon as her son Aegon watched on in horror. _Why is it that we always make the gruesome of tales into song?_

Finally he plucked out the final few beats as the song and tale reached its conclusion and sat back, rubbing at his fingers that were not as used to his old indulgence as they once were when he used to play for Nym. The court erupted in applause at his effort as he walked back to his seat and tried to go back to his meal without causing too much of a fuss.

"That was wonderful Ser, truly wonderful." stated Wyman, his multiple chins wobbling.

"You're too kind my lord." Was all Will could say in reply as he downed the rest of his wine.

The lords and ladies continued to rattle on for some time before finally lord Wylis and his children begged off to go to bed and the feast began to die down and the guests all returned to their own individual homes. As the two Starks walked the hallways of the Wolf's Den Will slapped Jon playfully on the shoulder. "See that wasn't so bad, and besides I think lady Wynafryd has her eye on you…"

"She has a good sense of humor that's all." defended Jon.

Will however ignored it and continued to tease his nephew. "You know, a marriage between our houses would be politically useful…." The look of shock that came over Jon's face was too much and Will burst into laughter. "Oh I'm just joking lad; you can marry whoever you choose whenever you choose. Now I'm off to bed, but you be ready for tomorrow….we have a big day ahead of us."

The next day they rose early and after breaking their fast with a small helping of bacon and eggs the two Starks made their way to the Merman's court, the whole time Jon remained Will's shadow; saying and doing nothing unless he was told. Will had only done the service to the Manderlys a few times before he left for the east but he had memory enough of how the proceedings went and had informed Jon that for today he was merely to watch and observe.

The court was mostly empty at that time of day aside for a few knights, the local Maester and lord Wyman's youngest son Ser Wendel who happily waved the two Starks over by his side on the dais. Once they were all seated and Ser Wendel had helped himself to a plate of lemon cakes, the Maester began going over the various lists of things that need the Manderlys' approval, mostly matters to do with the docks and shipping arrangements as the sailors argued bureaucracy. It went over Will's head and he tried his best to drone it out as he sat quietly to Ser Wendel's left, occasionally nodding when it required it but otherwise remaining impassive.

He missed the days when he was with the Silver Serpents; there he was in his element with the other warriors as they sat in discussion about how the next battle would take place as well as discussing potential future costumers in need of their swords it felt almost like solving a puzzle as he studied his enemy in an attempt to find a weakness he could exploit. _Some men are made for battle and others are made for ruling _he told himself as he continued to listen to the various fisherman argue about taxes.

Suddenly the Maester brought up a matter that snapped Will's mind back to reality. "Also my lords there've been some reports of Wildling attacks on numerous merchant ships just north of the city, it seems that they are growing in intensity."

Wendel Manderly frowned at that. "This cannot be tolerated; we can't have our people be victimized like this by those savages."

Will nodded and spoke for the first time. "I'll send a raven to Eastwatch later today; hopefully they'll be able to find where the wildlings are coming from and cut the problem off at the root. In the meantime I'll increase sea patrols along the besieged trading routes; mayhaps the threat of fighting armed men instead of fishermen will deter them."

The old Maester nodded in agreement and made a note of it in one of his great ledgers before turning back to Will. "We also have the matter of several criminals who have broken the King's peace…"

Will just waved his hand. "Send them in then."

The old man gestured to one of the guards at the main entrance who turned and disappeared for a moment before returning with a collection of haggard looking men all burdened by heavy chains. Ser Wendel made a sound of disapproval from beside Will as he watched the first of the criminals be placed before those on the dais; he was a short man with a mop of messy red hair that was caked in dirt and other foulness.

"This man has been accused of stealing two loaves of bread from a local baker." said the Maester as he tried to keep his voice neutral.

"I was starving milord! A man needs to eat!" cried the man.

"Why didn't you just buy the bread? Don't you have a trade to gain coin?" asked Will as he stared down at the man.

"I….well…work has not been easy to come by milord." stuttered the man.

Will frowned at him. "You live in a harbor town, there's dozens of ships out there that could use an extra set of hands and a strong back."

The man only mumbled excuses before looking up at them miserably; the Maester just shook his head at the man's display. "The law dictates that we should take one of his hands for the act of thievery."

"I think I'll try to avoid maiming peasants unless absolutely necessary Maester." Replied Will with a roll of his eyes before turning to the chained man. "But unless you can pay back the baker for the cost of the bread you stole then I shall have to punish you."

"I don't have no gold milord…"

Will pinched the ridge of his nose in frustration and gave the man a dry look. "You can work off the debt then. I'll have it arranged that you work as a bakers assistant until the next turn of the moon, from which time you are to then leave White Harbor and never return."

The man looked like he wanted to say something more but Will had the guards take him away before he could do anything. He caught sight of a cupbearer and gestured for the boy to fill his cup with wine which he drank heartily from, needing something to help calm his nerves. The Maester then brought the next man forth.

The next prisoner was a waif of a man who looked as if the slightest breeze would knock him over and he seemed to be visibly shaking. _Another thief _was Will's first thought but then he caught sight of the man's eyes. He had seldom seen such a look of utter defeat and misery on a man, and it made him talk directly to the melancholy figure.

"What crime have you committed against White Harbor?" he asked curiously.

The man barely lifted his head as he muttered "Murder, milord."

The Stark was taken aback by that and then looked to his fellow lords, none of whom seemed too perturbed by the revelation. "What drove you to do this thing?" he asked again, trying to keep his tone even. The man however would not speak and instead kept his eyes downcast and once he realized that he wouldn't get an answer Will spoke then to the guards. "Take him to one of the bottom cells of the Wolf's Den, we'll send him to the gallows on the morrow." And with that they escorted the man from the room.

"Was that wise Ser Willam?" asked Wendel Manderly.

"Justice will only be delayed for a day, when the time comes I'll swing the sword myself."

Later that night Will sat alone in his chambers nursing a cup of wine, he had begged off of feasting with the Manderlys but had encouraged Jon to go and socialize so that he could further cement bonds with the lords and ladies of White Harbor. Will however found that himself thinking back to his time in Volantis when he had stayed with Nymeria in the home of her mother's family, he remembered how coldly they had treated Nym but more importantly he recalled how they entertained themselves.

_"Tell me Stark, do they have pit fitting in the North?" _

_The question had caught Will off-guard and he nearly choked on his wine. At first he had assumed that Nymeria's grandfather had been joking but when the old man looked at him expecting an answer he began to realize the sort of man the Volantian had been. _

_"No, my lord, such things are outlawed in Westeros." He replied cautiously._

_"Shame. They can be quite an experience, especially with the right slaves facing off." he curtly informed the young Stark. _

_Will hadn't been sure what to say to that, on the one hand he had abhorred the slave trade and saw it as an affront to his Westerosi sensibilities, yet on the other hand the practice of owning slaves was an ancient tradition in Volantis and he didn't want to say anything that would offend Nym's family so in the end he simply gave a short nod and said nothing more._

_"Perhaps it's time you stop bragging Grandfather." cut in Nymeria, appearing from nowhere. _

_The old man narrowed his purple eyes on his bastard granddaughter. "I was merely explaining one of our past times to your paramour, if you didn't want me to socialize with the man then why did you even bring him into my home, or have you forgotten who rules in this household?"_

_Nymeria bit back a response and merely shot her grandfather a hateful glare before turning on her heel and dragging Will with her as she marched off to the other side of the enormous garden. "The nerve of that man, if only I could have brought one of my blades…"_

_Will smiled a little at that. "Unfortunately there are laws against kinslaying my love, but you don't have to worry about that old goat, I can fight my own battles."_

_"My grandfather is not a man to be trifled with; there is a reason why even my father avoids him and this place."_

_Will found it hard to imagine what could frighten Nymeria Sand, who had once killed an entire room of violent lunatics with a smile on her face. Before he could respond a tall woman draped in blue approached them, she looked at Will briefly before turning to Nymeria, a dour look on her face._

_"He wants everyone to meet in the center of the garden, he" she said gesturing to Will "is to come as well."_

_Nym shot the young Stark a worried look but followed the older woman as they approached the crowd of relatives that had gathered in the center of the garden. Nymeria's Grandfather waved Will over to him before pointing to two tall men that stood at attention behind him; they both had a large fish tattooed on their cheeks marking them as slaves._

_"Stark, watch closely, since you haven't been to an actual Pit fit I'll throw an impromptu match here in your honor." announced the old man with a sickening smile. "You see these two here? They're brothers, who have received the exact same training and the exact same treatment. By rights they should be on even ground." He laughed a little to himself and clapped his hands signaling for the two slaves to begin their match. _

_The two men instantly went at each other with a flurry of punches and sharp kicks to the chest and ribcage all while the various party guests and relatives cheered them on. The two men were savage in their assault and Will wondered what it was that would make two brothers be able to hurt each other like the two slaves did, was it some deep seeded hatred or jealousy ? Or perhaps it was just fear of their master's lash that made them fight on so vigorously; either way Will couldn't help but flinch as he witnessed the brutality._

_Eventually one of the fighters got the upper hand over his brother and managed to twist his arm in such a way that it caused a sickening crack and Will knew would never properly heal, effectively taking him from the fight. The slave then looked over at his master in question as to how he should proceed._

_The old man sneered at the bloodied slave. "You finish him like they do in the Pits." He handed the man a small knife. "End him." _

_The slave looked at his master with a desperate expression and then looked around at the crowd whole only urged him on. For a time Will thought the man would not do it but then he took the knife and quickly shoved it through his brother's heart which was met by an applause from the guests, all except Will who stood back in shock over what he had just seen. Nymeria touched his arm and tried to pull him away from the bloody scene but all the young Stark could focus on was the face of the slave who had been forced to kill his brother and that expression of shame and defeat that covered his features, it would stay with Stark for years._

It was that same look that was on the face of the murderer Will had sentenced to a prison cell deep within the Wolf's Den and the thought of it made him sick. He drained the rest of his wine and hastily left his chambers and walked downwards into the dank and cold levels of the prison that he and Jon lived atop. The guards all snapped to attention as he made his way past until finally he stood before Garth the gaoler.

"Milord."

"Garth, my good man I need you to take me to the cell that murderer is staying in."

Garth grunted. "That pissant? He's this way."

The walked together in the darkness for some time and Will wondered how the big man knew which cell was which, especially in the oppressive dark yet when he stopped and unlocked a door at random there sat the man Will was looking for. He thanked the big man and told him to wait outside while he spoke to the prisoner.

The man was sitting the stone floor seemingly counting the bricks when Will walked in, however once he saw the famed Wolf Knight enter his cell he jumped to his feet and stood at attention.

"Milord Stark." he murmured.

Will didn't answer him right away and instead made a show of inspecting the man's cramped cell, looking up and down at every crack and crevice, every rat that scurried about under the man's cot before finally turning to him with a nonchalant expression. "It's very _cozy_ in here isn't it?"

"It's better than I deserve Milord."

"Yes….a murderer should not be roaming the streets, where he can attack the innocent." Replied Will absently as he watched the man flinch at his remark. "But then again you don't strike me as a man who would kill in cold blood."

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Makes no difference Milord, a murderer is a murderer."

"You know they never did tell me just _who_ exactly it was that you murdered…..but I'll hazard a guess and say it was someone you loved."

"…..My wife."

Will watched as the man broke into a heavy sob as he collapsed back onto his small cot and cried into his hands. For a time the Wolf Knight let the man indulge himself in his pain before sitting down beside him. "Why did you do this thing?"

"I….I saw her….with another man…."he said between sobs. "I got drunk and…and I confronted her about it…I didn't mean to hit her so hard!…and then there was so much blood…..Gods so much blood! Mother have mercy, I killed the woman I loved!"

"And there is no changing that, but it doesn't mean you also have to die." Replied Will quietly.

"But the law…I'm a murderer, they hang murderers."

Will nodded in agreement. "The law would see you punished, but the law would also grant you a chance at redemption. When a man joins the Night's Watch his sins are wiped away. If you really want to atone then take the black, and then honor will find you again."

The man stared at the stone floor at his feet for a very long time as he contemplated whether or not his life was worth living after what he had done. Finally he looked up at Will with teary eyes. "If I do take the black…do you think that she'll be at peace?"

"I think….if you dedicate your life, every day of your life, to guarding the realm and every single man woman and child in it…then I think your wife's death will not have been in vain."

The prisoner seemed to absorb what Will had said and he let out a deep breath and nodded to himself. "I shall join the Night's Watch."

"I'll let Lord Manderly know." said Will as he stood and turned to leave the room.

"Milord. Thank you."

Will said nothing and gave a knock for Garth to let him out into the darkness of the hall. He walked quietly back to his chambers where he collapsed into his chair by the fire, his thoughts not on the man he had saved but on the many whom he had let die.


	36. Winds of War

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed. you guys keep me going!**

"Why have you brought us here?"

The red head woman shot Will a look of utmost loathing as he sat down across from her, a jug of wine and two cups in his hands. He poured one for himself and then made do so for her but the woman merely shook her head, her frown deepening.

Catelyn Stark, who was originally Catelyn Tully, had been spotted in White Harbor trying to procure a ship that could take her to King's Landing of all places accompanied by an older man whom Will knew could only be Ser Rodrik. One of Will's men had informed the Stark of his goodsister's presence and he had quickly ordered for her to be brought to one of his safe houses so that he could speak with her himself.

Will stared at Cat for long time before answering the woman's question. "You've been sneaking about in the city I call home and you don't even bother to alert me or even Lord Wyman of your presence, why is that Cat?"

His brother's wife frowned at his question but otherwise said nothing. Strangely enough Will did find himself angered by her defiance but rather felt a deep sense of melancholy fall over him like a shadow and he hungrily drank from his wine cup. _She won't even speak to me in a matter as important as this…_

"Do you remember when we first met?" he asked quietly, his gaze distant. "I was…five, maybe six, coming down with Father and Brandon when he first had the two of you betrothed." A ghost of a smile crossed his face then. "That was the first time I had ever been south of the Neck, and what I remember most was how _warm_ it was. Warmer than anywhere else I'd been and on the way Father pointed off to the horizon where Riverrun was and told us that that was where Brandon's wife lived. I thought that any woman who lived in such a warm beautiful place must surely be like one of those princesses from old Nan's tales, and I wasn't far off. You were pretty and courteous, and _kind…._I loved the idea of having you as a sister." Will's face fell at that and his silver eyes shone like cold fire as he brought his gaze back to Catelyn. "I'm not sure where things went wrong between us but despite what you may think I do care about you and that's why I haven't alerted anyone else to your presence here, but believe me….you will tell me why you're here."

Cat remained still as her vibrant blue eyes inspected Will's form, her face unreadable. Finally after a time the woman gave a deep sigh and ran a hand through her long auburn locks. "Someone tried to murder Bran."

"What?" gasped Will as he leant forward. "Is he alright?"

Cat nodded. "His Direwolf killed the man before he could get to him, but Willam…..I think he may have been hired by the Lannisters." And then she unraveled something from underneath her cloak. "The assassin was carrying this dagger."

Will carefully took the weapon from his goodsister's hands and inspected the blade closely. From what he could tell it was definitely made from dragonbone not unlike the many Oberyn and Nymeria used to carry with them in Essos, though the weapon seemed oddly ornate. Such a thing was not easy to come by, at least not from average thugs and criminals.

"It was the Lannisters Will, I know it." urged Cat.

"What would they have to gain from the death of an injured eight year old?" asked Will skeptically.

Cat looked at him like he had grown a second head. "They despise us! They mock us the first chance they get and not to mention the hatred that runs between Ned and the Kingslayer and….and I found a hair, in the tower where Bran fell." Her expression was dire. "I think they pushed him Will."

He sat in silence as he digested all that Catelyn had told him and began trying to work out what the Lannisters' game was. He knew that lord Tywin and his brood had little love for his brother ever since the rebellion and the death of the Targaryen children but how could the death of crippled eight year old benefit House Lannister? He felt a shiver run down his spine as he recalled Oberyn Martell's warning to him years ago that Tywin had not forgotten House Stark's slights against him, _perhaps it was time for me to send a raven to my old mentor and see what he makes of it…_

"So your plan is to sail into King's Landing and ….confront Ned about it?" asked Will warily.

"I have friends in King's Landing, people who can help us find out the true owner of this dagger." insisted Cat.

After a beat Will nodded and stood from his chair and gestured for Catelyn to do the same. "Very well, I won't stop you." He gestured to one of his men standing watch at the chamber door. "This man will take back to Ser Rodrik and I'll see to it that you find passage to King's Landing. Safe travels."

With that the young Stark turned to leave the room only feel a soft hand on his arm, Cat's face was unsure but she quickly pulled Will into a hug for a few moments before breaking off. "Stay safe…"

* * *

After he had sorted out matters with Catelyn Will returned to the Wolf's Den and locked himself in his study, determined not to be disturbed as he contemplated whether or not to write Oberyn. He needed to inform his old friend of everything that had transpired between his family and the Lannisters as well as providing an update about how his plans with the Night's Watch were going yet if such a letter were to fall in the wrong hands then he and his allies would be hung for treason.

He decided on writing the letter in a dialect of Ghiscari that he had been taught during his time in Braavos; the paymaster of the Silver Serpents was born in the Slaver's Bay and had occasionally thrown insults at the young Stark. Eventually Will had decided that he wanted to throw some back at the old man who was oddly delighted that someone was taking an interest in his culture and gave him several books to study. _I only hope Oberyn can read it as well, if the old goat was willing to teach me then he'd certainly do the same for his commander…._

After he composed his letter and sealed it he sought out the Maester and asked the old man if they had possession of a raven that could travel to Sunspear and back. The Maester stared up at him from behind a pair of large spectacles with a raised brow but slowly nodded. "I believe we do have a bird trained for such a flight Ser, I'll just go find it."

Once the old man went to check the rookery Will was left alone within the confined chambers surrounded by dozens of books and shelves full of odd smelling potions. What really caught his attention was beautifully drawn map of the eastern shores of Westeros and he moved his finger along the various islands until he stopped at Skagos.

"It's quite lovely isn't it? My predecessor drew it himself." came the Maester's voice as he walked back into the room carrying a cage with a large bird in it.

"Did he go to Skagos?" asked Will absently.

The old man laughed at that. "I don't think so Ser, no one goes to Skagos."

"Someone did, almost forty years ago someone came from that island."

The Maester looked at Will quizzically and raised another of his bushy gray eyebrows. "Is that so? I've not heard of any Skagosi interactions with the mainland for over a hundred years when they fought against your lord grandfather."

Will tore his eyes from the map and to the old man, a light smile on his face. "Aye, and afterwards my father took a Skagosi for a wife and bred five children."

The other man's face turned a bright red as realization dawned on him. "Oh I beg your pardons Ser, I had totally forgotten about your Lady Mother…"

The young Stark waved the Maester off and took one more glance at the map before he went over to the caged raven. "This is the one to Sunspear?"

"Yes, that is the only one. I had hoped to train more but the need was never great and well….there isn't much time to spare on these sorts of things."

Will stroked the bird's dark feathers before walking towards the door. "Make sure you let me know as soon as you get a response."

It had been two weeks and still he had not heard back from the Martells and for a time he was afraid that the bird had been found out and that the Lannisters were on their way for his head, but those absurd thoughts soon left his head. As the days rolled by he had begun to find the lack of response to be an irritation that quickly soured his mood and caused him to easily lose his patience with almost everyone who tried to engage him.

Eventually he took to brooding in his chambers, locking the outside world away. Though after only two days of this he was shaken from his rut by the urgent appearance of Jon his room.

"Uncle have you heard the news?"

Will looked at his nephew with a blank expression and instead went back to his wine cup. He had gotten himself into a good little position in his large chair that sat right beside his fireplace and wasn't about to leave it any time soon. After seeing that Jon wasn't going anywhere he put down his drink and turned to the young man. "Alright tell me, what's happened?"

Jon's face went into a grim mask that looked frighteningly like Ned. "It's lady Catelyn, word is that she has taken Tyrion Lannister as her hostage and currently holds him at the Eyrie."

That got the Stark's attention and he practically leapt from his chair. "What in the name of the Gods is she doing? This is an act of war!"

Jon's expression was solemn. "Aye, Lord Manderly is already talking of calling his men and sending support off to Winterfell, should we join them?"

"One thing at a time, we must write to your father and await his instructions, only after we hear from him do we make a move…." replied Will as he struggled with the information. _Seven Hells this is a fucking mess…_

Will went into his study and quickly looked through the various items that littered the table and roughly grabbed a piece of paper and began writing down a letter to Robb, informing him that as the son of Eddard Stark and the castellan of Winterfell it was his duty not to do anything that could cause his people harm. Once he had written the letter and signed it with his official seal he hurried off to the Rookery and had the Maester send the letter to Winterfell immediately and just prayed that the bird would reach Robb before he did anything foolish.

_Fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck! Those bloody Dornish certainly picked a good time to desert me! _Will could barely contain his rage as he paced about his study trying to make sense of the situation. It seemed as if everything had fallen off course and that all of his carefully laid plans were about to come crumbling down around and those he had come to count had left him to die.

Just when he thought the weight of it would crush him he thought of his father and his brother and sister long dead and suddenly things became clearer. _I am a Stark of Winterfell, my ancestors were the Kings of Winter and I will not let any more of my family die!_ With Cat in the Vale and Ned in King's Landing _he_ was the eldest and it was up to him to steer his House through this hell.


	37. Preparations

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Big thanks to all who followed, favourited and reviewed the story, keeps me going!**

It was not long before news of Lord Eddard's imprisonment reached Will in White Harbor and with that the Wolf Knight, along with his nephew and eight hundred of lord Manderly's bannermen, rode off to Winterfell to join their forces with Robb who had already raised his banners to every lord in the north.

At first Will had urged his nephew for patience but that was before he found out that his oldest brother and two nieces were held captive by Cersei Lannister and her whelps. Now all he felt was an overwhelming desire to slaughter every single lion he could get his hands on. _Piss on waiting for Oberyn bloody Martell to give me his blessing, this is my family at stake here. I'll not let my father and brother's fate befall Ned and his little ones…_

They rode hard and the weather was on their side so they arrived at Winterfell with little hassle and swiftly enough. Once they arrived at Winterfell they were immediately greeted by dozens of northerners who had come when Robb called, he saw banners of Houses Glover, Mormont, Flint, Dustin, Hornwood, Karstark and Umber. _They've come to fight for Ned_ thought Will absently as he and Jon made their way through the crowed castle along with their own knights up to the great hall.

As soon as they entered into the hall the two Starks were greeted with the booming shouts from a voice that could only belong to the GreatJon Umber. "OATHBREAKER? I'll not be called Oathbreaker by a boy so green he pisses grass!"

Will couldn't but smile as he watched the GreatJon shout and rage at Robb, the big man was clearly testing the boy's resolve, to see if he was a worthy leader. _I just hope Robb will meet the challenge_ he thought to himself as he watched the big man's face explode in anger. The GreatJon went to unsheathe his sword only to be tackled to the ground by Robb's Direwolf Grey Wind who went about tearing at the giant man's hand and Will suddenly felt grateful that he had told Jon to leave Ghost in the Godswood.

Robb stood tall and looked down at the GreatJon with a steely expression. "My father always told me it was death for a man to bare steel against his liege lord, doubtless the GreatJon only meant to cut my meat for me."

The room was deadly quiet then as the big man rose to his feet clutching at his bloodied hand. "YOUR MEAT? YOUR MEAT!...is bloody tough." said the lord Umber as he slowly showed off his missing fingers and began to laugh at the situation. Robb likewise laughed too and the tension began to leave the room until finally everyman in the hall bellowed with laughter at the situation and the lords went back to eating.

A familiar voice called out to them. "Jon! Uncle Will!"

He looked over by the table and felt his jaw fall as he saw Bran sitting there with the others, a smile on his face. Will struggled to hold back his tears as he rushed over to the boy and knelt beside him, embracing him in a big hug. "Gods boy, it's good to see you." He choked.

Jon also looked to be in an emotional way as he flocked over to Bran as well, and gave the boy a hug of his own. Robb saw them and rose from his seat and Will likewise hugged him as he had done Bran. "You've done well lad." was all he said at all of the numerous bannermen that he had brought to the aid of House Stark.

"I'll need you with me on this uncle; you took Botley castle with five hundred men and helped in the Siege of Pyke. I need your experience and council." said Robb quietly.

A ghost of a smile crossed Will's face then. "Aye and you shall have it. But for tonight we should just feast and enjoy our family while we can."

* * *

It pained him to leave after having only been around so briefly but Will had agreed to Robb's plan that they should march under the cover of darkness to catch the Lannisters unawares. Jon and Robb had gone in and said their goodbyes to Bran and Rickon, he had thought about joining them as well but now that he was on the warpath he had to swallow his emotions and he feared that if he allowed himself a moment of tenderness that it would quell his bloodlust, and that was something he was going to need when they met the Lannisters in battle.

They rode south for days until they came upon Moat Cailin, on their way they were met by Catelyn and her uncle Ser Brynden Tully the Blackfish himself who had just come from White Harbor not long after Will and Jon had left. Robb of course embraced his mother when they met while Will and Jon kept their distance as he reunited with his Tully family.

Will could see a look of longing across Jon's face as he watched Robb happily talk with his mother, something he had never had, and for the longest time Will almost felt like taking the boy aside and telling him everything about his mother, who she was and why she wasn't around, and most importantly to tell him that she did in fact love him. But he realized that such talk would only bring pain and unrest, two things that could get him killed if he brought them into a battle so he held off the truth, for a while longer anyway.

After Robb had his moment Will ushered the other Northern lords over to the command tent to discuss their next move now that they were at the border. Just as Will was about to enter he felt someone tap him on the shoulder and he turned to find Domeric Bolton looking back at him with a broad smile on his face.

"The Gods be good, it's Dom Bolton himself!" laughed Will as he hugged his friend fiercely.

"Where've you been these last few years ya damned pirate! Westeros has been boring without Willam Stark around to keep me entertained!" joked Dom as he broke the hug and had a good look at his old friend. "You've gotten uglier."

Will could only grin at that. "Aye and you've gotten fatter…._Lord Bolton._"

Dom smile faded a bit and he nodded sadly. "Now it's up to me to make the Dreadfort respectable again."

Will gave Dom's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before a wolfish grin came over his face. "What's this I hear about you getting married to Myranda Royce? When do I get to meet her?"

Dom just smacked his friend's shoulder and led him into the command tent. "When we get this war done my friend."

Will nodded at Ser Brynden as he entered and stood to Robb's left beside Theon Greyjoy as the men laid out a map on the table before them showing where the Lannister forces were and the various rivers in the trident and roads they could take. Ser Brynden informed them of how the Kingslayer had led his forces across the Riverlands, setting the Tully lands to flame while lord Tywin brought his host up from Harrenhall.

Some of them urged Robb to fight lord Tywin first while others said that he should destroy the Kingslayer's forces for his personal attack on Lord Eddard in the capitol. While that was going on Will only found himself growing more and more frustrated and he suddenly plunged his knife into the table quieting everyone in the room.

"You're all forgetting a key factor; we need to actually get _into _the Riverlands first and the only way we can do that is by going through the Twins."

Dom was the first to speak. "Would Lord Walder Frey allow us passage?"

The GreatJon scoffed at that. "I'd like to see him try and keep us out!"

Catelyn shook her head. "The Freys have held the Crossing for six hundred years and for six hundred years they have always exacted their tolls on travelers."

"What can we do then? We must needs get past that bridge." said Jon urgently.

The Blackfish suddenly pulled Will's knife from the table and then pointed with its edge where the Twins sat and where Riverrun was. Realization struck Will, _the Freys are Tully bannermen._ Surely they would be more inclined to help if Lord Hoster's own kin were to ask it of them, perhaps to help appeal to Lord Walder's ego and it seemed that everyone else in the tent picked up on this idea as well.

"I will go and speak with the man and see if I can remind him of where his loyalties lie." said Catelyn firmly which was met by several nods of approval from the Northern lords.

It was decided that they would ride for the Twins on the morrow and that they would await Lord Walder's meeting with Cat before any military action was considered and if the Gods were just and they could progress without bloodshed then they would show Lord Tywin and his son just how much the North remembers.

After the meeting was finished Will sat down with Domeric and caught up with all the things he missed whilst he was in Essos. Domeric it seemed had taken Will's old squire on as his own and had even knighted the lad after a time, making him the sworn shield for his wife Myranda and their soon to be born child. Will could see how much happier and more open being married had made his once shy friend and he was glad that he could find some measure of happiness after the cruelty of his upbringing.

A few hours and many skins of wine later Domeric bid him goodnight while the Wolf knight sat alone by a camp fire nursing what was left of his own dornish red. Eventually Jon found him and sat down by his side. He looked tired after all the travelling and planning and it reminded Will of his own first experiences with a war party, it wasn't until he joined the Silver Serpents that he truly got used to the constant movement.

"You look tired lad, perhaps a good night's rest is what you need."

Jon shook his head wearily. "I can't sleep….not with all of this going on; I mean we could be going to war tomorrow."

"Aye we could, but we might not as well."

Jon looked at his uncle closely as if he had never really done so before in his life. "What was it like for you? Going to war I mean. You fought against Balon Greyjoy and your ship was the first to land on Pyke, I've heard men say that you did it with less than a thousand men." A shy smile came over his face. "I wish I could have been there with you."

Will shrugged and took another mouthful of wine. "War….it's insane Jon, yet it's a natural symptom of man. Some men fight war for their gods, others for their ambitions, some for duty and honor…..and some men, like me, fight because they _like_ it; because combat is what warms their blood. When I fought in the Greyjoy Rebellion I was young and wanted to prove myself to the world yet truly all that I proved that day was that I'm a killer plain and simple."

Jon frowned at that. "You saved hundreds of men by giving King Robert a foothold to launch his attack from."

"Aye, but by doing that I burnt Botley keep to the ground and every man inside. When our forces stormed Pyke I killed Maron Greyjoy while his little sister watched on in terror." He softened his tone when he saw how conflicted Jon was looking. "I'm not trying to frighten you lad, but you have to know that war isn't at all glamorous or the stuff of heroes as you might have heard. I may indulge in it more than any other of our family but that doesn't mean I want you to do the same. A good man fights only because he _has to_ and never because he _wants to_, understand?"

Jon considered his uncle's words for a moment but looked up at him with a solemn expression and gave a deep nod. Will could only hope that his words stuck with his nephew, not just for his sake but for Lyanna's. In truth he had his doubts about bringing the boy with him south, though he knew there was no power in the world that could keep him away, so until the fighting was done the boy would have to stay at his side. _I made you a promise Lya, and we Starks keep our promises…_


	38. Whispering Wood

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Once again thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the story.**

The tension had been almost palpable that day as they waited for Catelyn to return from her meeting at the Twins with Lord Frey and his massive brood. While Ser Brynden, Robb and Jon all looked anxious and stood with their gazes fixed on the massive bridge that the Freys owned, Will sat on a foldable chair that he had taken from Robb's command tent and went about sharpening his sword with a whetstone, a distant look on his face as he absently moved the small stone up and down the blade's edge.

He thought back on the various conflicts he had been a part of, the fear that had been his partner as he awaited the fights to come. In his experience it was the waiting that defeated most men during war; the crippling fear betraying the souls of combatants and he had learned long ago how to cope with such feelings. The single minded action of sharpening his blade kept him focused and away from all of the unneeded emotions, likewise his weapon was out in the open and ready for him to use should the Freys decide to strike out at them.

Their collective fears however were all for nothing as Catelyn was escorted back to camp, an odd expression on her face. As soon as she returned Robb called all of his commanders back into the main tent to discuss matters. They all gathered around and eagerly waited for what news Catelyn had brought back from the Freys and Will found himself slightly annoyed by how unreadable his good-sister's face was.

"The Freys have agreed to let us pass, and will join their number to our own." said Cat finally, much to relief of everyone in the room.

Robb's serious expression did not change. "What was their price?"

Cat looked uncomfortable for a moment. "His son Olyvar is to be your squire, he expects a knighthood in time." Robb nodded dismissively at that and gestured for his mother to continue. "Arya is to marry his son Elmar…"

Robb exchanged a look with Jon who was frowning at the notion of his favorite sibling being sold off to some loveless marriage where she would not be able to express herself as she wished. Will knew that such a match would be as disastrous for Arya as it had been for Lyanna.

"There's more…..when the fighting is done….you and Jon are to each marry one of lord Walder's daughters, he has several that he thinks will be suitable." said Cat in an uneasy tone.

The tent was silent then as the two Starks stood in shock and tried to process what they had just been told. Theon Greyjoy seemed to be smirking like an idiot, no doubt finding the idea of Robb and Jon married off to Freys as hilarious.

"What about Willam?" the GreatJon asked gruffly.

"When Robert legitimized Jon as my heir he place him ahead of any children I would ever have…doubtless lord Walder knew that marrying off a daughter to me would gain him little." explained Will casually before bringing his eyes over to Jon who stood in silence before eventually giving a weary nod to Catelyn and to Robb.

Robb looked at his mother. "Can I refuse?"

"Not if you want to cross that bridge."

The young Stark's face turned resolute then. "Then I accept."

* * *

After the northern army had made their way across the Twins and added the Freys to their cause, they travelled further south to relieve Riverrun from the Lannister forces that were currently occupying their lands. The battle commanders, now joined by men of House Frey, had decided that the best way to remove the Lannister threat was split the Northern host in two and keep lord Tywin's forces separate from his son's. Though who exactly was going to lead the men to attack the elder Lannister was a matter of contention between the many lords, each squabbling for what they saw as a glorious victory. Will had already been irate over several matters lately and upon hearing many of his brother's bannermen arguing like children he was very nearly ready to tear their collective throats out.

He turned to Robb and spoke loudly enough that the other men would hear him. "Might I speak Robb?" he asked.

"Go ahead uncle." Replied Robb, somewhat taken aback by the level of reverence his senior was showing him.

"You need a rational man to properly face off against Tywin Lannister, someone of consideration who can match Tywin on some level…" he paused and looked at the other northern lords. "These are all fine warriors and proven veterans, but when fighting someone like Tywin Lannister you need to have a great deal of patience, and in my opinion there is none better for that than Lord Bolton."

Everyone's eyes travelled to the quiet man standing to Will's left, and Dom to his credit did not shy away from them, instead he stepped forward. "If you would allow me my lord, I would face off against the lions for you."

Catelyn for once in her life seemed to agree with Will's judgment and also threw her support behind Domeric and with that it wasn't long until Robb had made his decision and agreed to the plan. Likewise it was decided that Robb's forces would face off against the Kingslayer, who had become overconfident with his recent success against the Riverlords, and lure the man into a trap that could essentially cut him off from the rest of his forces and scatter the Lannister forces in the Riverlands.

After they had worked out the various details Will retreated to his tent for a moment of peace and his mind had travelled back to the invasion of Tyrosh with Oberyn; he could still remember the anxiety that had been upon him during the boat ride to the island capitol of the warlike nation. It had been his plan that they used, his judgment that held the lives of thousands. Now it was Robb's turn to bare the weight of it all, and Will could only hope he was up to challenge or else it would be the entire north on the line.

Absently he ran his fingers over the various unsent letters that he had written to Oberyn and Nym and angrily wondered why they would leave him to face the lions on his own, especially now that his entire House was at stake. Was it some game, another twisted test from Oberyn like the snake and the mountain so long ago? Such things plagued him endlessly and only soured his mood further. _This will only distract me in the coming battle, I must put these thoughts aside…_

He decided that instead of sulking in his tent that he would go and have one more drink with Dom before the war, only the gods knew if they would ever see each other again and he would rather that his last memories of his friend be of them drinking together like in the good old days.

* * *

They had managed to keep their march south secret thanks to the Blackfish's outriders who had been able to kill any and all scouts that were roaming the area as they approached and had again killed off all of the Kingslayer's outriders as they lured the arrogant knight from his camp. While he was only cordial to Will, the Stark had to admit that the man was a talent in the battlefield.

Will sat atop his horse alongside Jon, Daryn Hornwood and the two Karstark brothers as part of those surrounding Robb's person. Robb had originally offered him a subordinate command but Will politely refused as he had wanted to stay where he could keep an eye on his two nephews in case things turned sour.

The army waited patiently for the few hundred Tully men Robb had sent off to ride ahead and serve as bait for the Kingslayer's forces, which would be now riding blind after Ser Brynden's actions and hopefully come running straight into the jaws of the wolf. The waiting was unsettling yet none of the men let it show and Will felt a swell of pride for the fact that he could call most of these his countrymen.

Suddenly Grey Wind and Ghost began to growl and a large group of Robb's men came riding in a hurried pace towards them before falling back into the greater host and not moments later the Lannister men came riding after them. _They've fallen into the trap _thought Will excitedly as he unsheathed his sword with the other soldiers before Robb gave the signal to attack.

In a flash they were off riding at a furious pace towards the confused and disorientated Lannister soldiers and struck them with a force so sudden and so ferociously that it was like a hot knife cutting through butter as Lannister men fell dead left and right. Despite being the commander Robb was right in the thick of it, fighting like a man possessed beside Jon as they began cleaving at all comers and for a moment Will was struck by a moment of admiration before suddenly his horse reared up in pain as a Lannister struck it in the side with a spear, knocking the Stark from his saddle.

He was up in an instant sword in hand just as the same Lannister man came at him with his spear, forcing a distance between. Will had only his blade to defend himself with but he knew that would be enough and coaxed the man into attacking him, only to move away at the last second and getting a firm grip on the long weapon. With all his strength he pulled the man adorned in red and gold forward, causing him to stumble right into Will's sword.

As he turned to search for his horse he was confronted by the terrifying sight of Ghost tearing a man's throat out before leaping onto another and not for the first time he thanked the Gods for sending the beasts to his family. He quickly slew three more men as he tried to move around despite the chaos that engulfed him, though by now he had given up hope of finding his mount again and instead tried to head towards Jon and Robb.

Victory was close now, he could feel it. For every Northman that was cut down three Lannisters fell in his place, though it seemed that the Westermen didn't know when to be beaten and with a sudden fury they rallied around Jamie Lannister himself and began to cut a path through the Northern host.

It was only after he was knee deep in Lannister guts that Will realized that the Kingslayer meant to fight Robb himself and his usual bloodlust left him and for the first time in his life he genuinely feared for his nephew's safety and he raced through the mass chaos of the battle to stop the man. _Swift, Strong Brave. I remember father, I remember._

By the time he had gotten to the center of the battle Daryn Hornwood was already dead at the Kingslayer's feet and Eddard Karstark lay dying beside him while his brother struggled to parry the golden haired man off. Will took a breath and ran at the man, not even bothering to try to fight him with a sword and simply tackled him to the ground. The Kingslayer cursed him as they struggled together in the muck, and it was all Will could do to keep the tall man from getting up, and more than once he felt the Lannister's mailed fist strike him in the face but he was persistent and managed to exchange a few blows of his own.

Eventually one of the men beside him managed to get the sword away from the Kingslayer and after that several others helped Will in beating the man into submission, by that time the remaining Lannister forces had fled the battle and the Northmen were cheering triumphantly.

Will was helped to his feet by Torrhen Karstark who smiled at him with an expression of gratitude. "Thank you Ser, without you I'd surely be a dead man."

Will did not smile and instead looked at all the corpses that littered the ground around them. "Don't thank me yet, there's plenty more where that lot came from."

* * *

That night after they had managed to chain the Kingslayer up in a cell and Robb had given a commendable speech to the men, Will had retired to his tent and with a basin of water began washing off the blood and grime that had accumulated from the battle. He was nearly ready to fall asleep then and there and laid back on his cot in exhaustion. He waited a beat before slowly getting back up and looking for one of his letters only to find that they were all gone from their usual place.

"Looking for these?" came the familiar arrogant voice of Theon Greyjoy standing at the flap of his tent holding a bundle of letters together, a smug smile on his face.

Before Will could do anything four knights walked in with their swords unsheathed, ready to strike. He looked around for his weapons before trying another approach. "I am a Stark of Winterfell and brother to Lord Eddard, by whose command do you bare steel against me?"

"Mine." Came the voice of Robb marching in behind them with another dozen men. "I order you to arrest this traitor."


	39. A Gilded Cage

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: As always thanks again to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the story, it keeps me going!**

He had seen little daylight since he had been sent to Riverrun; his cell sat at in the depths of the great castle and the only way to distinguish the day and night cycle was by the coming and going of the various guards who brought him his two meals at morning and at night. Regardless of the change from hours to days Will was unable to keep his wits about him as much as he would have liked; every moment in his small cell was spent going over what Robb could have discovered.

The letters he had written varied from Ghiscari to the common tongue but he knew that there was enough in them to incite the wrath of the more conservative members of the Northern host; he just prayed that those loyal to him were able to grant his freedom soon. _They won't kill me for this, they can't _he assured himself.

_ I wonder how my neighbor Jamie Lannister is feeling. I'm sure he'd love the idea of his own captor being held captive. _ More than anything he was angered by his nephew's sudden turn against him, he hadn't even been granted a chance to speak for himself before Robb ordered him off like some petty criminal. _I'm trying to save you all!_ He thought desperately.

He had tried to find out what news he could from the guards who brought his food but they hardly ever spoke back to him unless it was to tell him to keep his mouth shut and eventually he just stopped trying all together.

On what he assumed was the sixth day of his imprisonment he was met by an unlikely visitor as his good-sister entered his dark cell, causing the Stark to jump up from his cot like a trained animal. Catelyn was looking at him with a mixture of concern and anger, Will wasn't sure what was going to win out.

"Have you been treated well?" she finally asked.

Will shrugged. "They haven't beaten me or denied me food…..but Cat, I cannot stay here."

"Then what is this madness?" she said angrily, one of his letters scrunched in her hand. "The _Targaryens_, of all things that you could be involved in you choose to help the people who murdered your father, who murdered _Brandon._"

"The man who did that is long dead Cat, his children are innocent." He replied quietly.

Cat looked at him incredulously. "And giving away our location, our battle plans to the Martells? How is that going to achieve anything?"

Will narrowed his eyes at that. "Oberyn Martell has been a good friend to me, he's one of the few men I can trust and he hates the Lannisters more than we do."

"Has he offered his support? Will he join us?"

A flash of shame passed over him then and he struggled to meet her gaze. "….I've not heard back from him." he finally admitted.

Catelyn was seething now. "You've jeopardized our entire family with this madness and if word got out that you are a Targaryen loyalist…"

"What would happen?" he asked, suddenly unable to keep his anger in check. "The crown would be against me? Look _around you_ Catelyn! We're already at war with the Lannisters and the Baratheons, Robert is dead and whatever loyalty Ned and the rest of our family had to them is gone with him. Why not declare for Viserys Targaryen and gain ourselves allies?"

"We would gain more enemies than we would allies! The Targaryens have no army Willam, no ships, nothing we can use to defeat Tywin Lannister and his gold! Both of Robert's brothers have taken up against Joffrey and the Lannisters….we can still make an alliance with them and free Ned and the girls. " explained Catelyn, her patience nearing its end. "I don't care what your reasons are and neither does Robb, you could have nearly undone everything we have worked for." Her voice turned icy after that. "I will talk to my brother Edmure and see that are you given a room in the castle proper and your needs looked after but until we can make sure that you are no longer a threat to this family you will remain in Riverrun."

* * *

True to her word Catelyn had Will moved up into one of the more comfortable unoccupied rooms of Riverrun, Edmure Tully himself had spoken to the Stark and none too subtly told the man that his treatment would depend on how he behaved. The auburn haired man probably thought he was being impressive with his song and dance but Will felt nothing but contempt for the future lord of Riverrun and struggled to hold back a snigger as he listened to the man prattle on about his own importance. _You're a child trying to play at war while the grown-ups do the real work_ he had wanted to say but instead gave Edmure a slight nod of his head and waited till the man had said his piece and left the rooms.

Once he was alone in his new living area he took a good long time getting to know the place. He had four rooms open to him; a small study full of books that lord Hoster had kept over his many years, a bathing room with a bath of considerable size that sat adjacent to his bedroom and a solar that seemed oddly quaint to the Stark. After spending an hour exploring what was to be his home for the foreseeable future he decided that he wasn't unhappy with the living area, though he knew he'd soon grow to rail against his confines.

The days were extremely long and to pass the time he often found himself hold up in the study going through every single book that the Tullys had sought fit to leave in his presence. Most of them were about the time of king Harren the Black and how he claimed dominion over not only the iron islands but all of the Riverlands as well until Aegon the conqueror and his dragon Balerion the black dread burned Harren and all his sons alive inside of their castle, the now cursed Harrenhall. History had always fascinated Will and he marveled at how the far the seven kingdoms had come in the last three hundred years of Targaryen rule.

Such tomes were quickly read however and after a week had nothing new to keep him occupied. To combat the boredom he often took to sleeping long hours of the day yet this proved to be counterproductive and he was left with even more pent up energy that he could not expel. By his seventh day in captivity he was going mad and was ready to tear the whole castle down, stone by stone if he had to.

Eventually Will swallowed his pride and had a servant ask Edmure if he was allowed permission to leave his rooms for a walk about the courtyard. It made him sick to imagine how proud Tully was probably feeling about himself knowing that he had 'broken' his prisoner. _The Wolf cannot be tamed_ he assured himself.

Tully had granted him permission to walk around the courtyards and gardens of the great castle, though he could only do so under strict supervision with four guards watching over him and he was firmly reminded that if he attempted escape of any kind he would be stripped of his current rooms and thrown back into the dungeons, an unpleasant prospect. He was granted a single hour to walk around the grounds and enjoy what little fresh air he could get before being quickly ushered back inside to his luxurious prison.

While out for one such walk he noticed that while the majority of his guards were Tully bannermen one happened to stand out as a Northman and it took him a moment to realize that it was the Karstark from the Robb's vanguard. The man caught Will looking at him and walked over happily.

"Greetings Ser." He replied cheerfully.

Will was a little taken aback and looked at his fellow countryman cautiously. "Torrhen, what in the name of the gods are you doing in Riverrun?"

"I asked to stay on and serve as your shield Ser, to pay back the debt I owe you."

The wolf knight shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, and I'm currently a prisoner…..there is little here that I need protection from, aside from my own boredom."

Torrhen frowned and leaned forward, showing an angry crimson scar near his throat "This was where the Kingslayer cut me with his blade, doubtless it would have been worse had you not stepped in. You _saved_ me." He insisted.

Will's silver eyes flicked at the wound around the other man's neck, for a moment he was reminded of the numerous other scars he had seen in his time, some he had even inflicted himself. With a weary sigh he nodded and shook Karstark's hand. "I suppose it will be good to have a fellow northerner amongst the sea of fish knights. Tell me, what news of the war?"

Karstark let out a deep sigh and scanned the lush green willow trees that hung about before looking back at Will. "Most of what I hear is secondhand from the Riverlords, but I know that Lord Bolton has returned from his battle with Tywin Lannister more or less unharmed , he even managed to stall the old lion long enough so that by the time the battle was over his son's forces were without anyone to hold them together."

"Then we have pushed the Lannisters back then." said Will, a slight smile on his face as he continued to walk through the grounds, watching as the various servants came and went.

"Aye, though from what I've heard around here things within House Tully are not as well as they seem." He glanced at the three Tully knights standing a few paces behind them and leaned towards Will conspiratorially. "They say that Lord Hoster is dying and his daughter Lysa has gone mad….the Vale will not help us."

Will cursed at that. He supposed that lady Arryn was afraid of the Lannisters, especially since the popular rumor floating about the realm was that it was them who murdered her husband, but the woman essentially controlled the Vale until her son came of age and she could easily command her men to aid her family. _What kind of woman would just leave her siblings to die? What kind of woman would not be with her father in his final days?_ He shivered at the thought.

Before he could question Torrhen anymore one of the Tully men came up to them and informed Will that his time was up and he was quickly ushered back inside to the confines of his rooms, with only his thoughts to keep him company. He was happy to hear that Domeric was alive and began trying to think of ways he could pass a message to the lord of Dreadfort and perhaps have him try and convince Robb to release him. _Or at the very least keep that Greyjoy from whispering in his ear_ he thought bitterly.

The Bitterness was not only directed at his brother's ward but also at the Martells. It had been weeks and he had received no response from them, and now because of their apathy towards him he was trapped in a gilded cage with only the thoughts of betrayal to keep him warm at night. It was not only Oberyn whom his fury was directed at but Nymeria as well; he had been hurt by love before, had allowed himself to be made a fool of and now it had happened again and this time there was no one to offer him a reprieve from the shame and anger.

He did not sleep that night or the next and he began to feel frightened by the depths of his own hatred as it drove him to push himself further and further in his private sessions of exercise that he was allowed in the courtyard. He continued to hold conversations with Torrhen Karstark in an effort to keep himself updated on the current news going on in the world outside of Riverrun and soon he would seek the man's help in passing a message back to his northern allies.

His usual routine was disturbed one morning by the appearance of Cat who had walked into his solar just as he was about to break his fast. The wolf knight almost tried to jape but the stricken look on his good-sisters face, coupled with her now red eyes kept him silent and he felt a warm sensation of fear run up the back of his neck as he went to her.

"What's the matter Cat?" he asked cautiously as he took her hands within his own.

Catelyn seemed to struggle to find the right words to say and after several agonizing seconds she finally spoke a single word in voice that was so faint he could barely hear it.

"Ned."


	40. Tears Unshed

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, really keeps me inspired!**

_"Is everything ready?" _

_"Aye, father." _

_"Remember; mind what lord Arryn tells you, and always treat him as you would me." _

_Will watched his brother dutifully nod his head while the servants helped load his things onto a horse. Ned was to leave Winterfell and head far away to some place called the Vale high in the mountains with their Father's friend Jon Arryn. Will didn't quite understand it at first and had asked everyone why it was that one of his family had to leave but they all just laughed it off thinking he was being a silly child and that made him angry._

_Now the whole family stood out in the courtyard, waiting to see Ned off and say their goodbyes. Brandon stood tall and was smirking just like usual. When he went over to Ned and gave him a big hug he told his quiet brother to watch out for the women of the Vale, causing Ned's face to flush red. _

_Lyanna walked up to Ned and punched him hard in the shoulder. "You better write all the time and visit as much as that old man will let you or I'll drag you all the way back!" she declared loudly, causing their Father to frown slightly at how unladylike his daughter was behaving._

_"I'll try little sister." He said with a quiet smile before giving her one last hug._

_Ben walked up to Ned and merely told him to 'stay safe and stay warm' before giving him a brief hug of his own. After that Ned turned to Will expectantly, a bemused smile that stood out on his usually solemn face. Will knew he was supposed to hug Ned and say all of his goodbyes but he didn't want to; Ned shouldn't have to go, he should stay in Winterfell with the rest of the family._

_"Can I have a hug?" he asked kindly._

_Will shook his head. "Why do you need to go?"_

_Ned sighed and looked back at his little brother. "We've talked about this, Lord Arryn is one of Father's oldest friends and it'll do well for the North if we strengthen our ties with the Vale."_

_The youngest Stark furiously shook his head again and grabbed hold of Ned's sleeve. "NO! That old man can steal another person's brother but not you!" His little silver eyes were now brimming with unshed tears and he bit down on his bottom lip in a vain attempt to hold back a sob. "What if you forget us?"_

_The quiet wolf knelt down to his brother's level and gently put his hands on the boy's shoulders, making sure that Will could look in his eyes as he spoke, so that he could know what he was about to hear was the truth. "I could never forget our family, I could never forget you pup." And with that he pulled the boy into a fierce hug and held onto him for what seemed like an eternity before he finally parted. _

_"You promise you'll come back?" he asked in between sniffles._

_Ned smiled sadly at the boy and absently wiped away one of the boy's tears with his thumb. "I promise that whatever happens, we'll always be brothers and that I'll always be with you."_

"Will?"

Catelyn's voice was thick with grief and though she tried to keep composed he could tell that she was barely getting by. His good-sister had to put up a front of calm not just for their bannermen but also for the sake of her children who would need her now more than ever.

They would need him too, but right now he couldn't think of them, he couldn't think of Catelyn or the North or Joffrey or the Iron Throne or anything else; all he had was the burning anger deep within. "Just…leave me." he said as he forced his eyes far away so that she wouldn't see the despair on his face.

Will could feel her eyes on him for a moment before she turned and left his chambers, the sound of the door closing with a thud. Once he was alone the Stark looked around at his fanciful surroundings and a great rage came over him, causing him to lash out at anything and everything. Chairs and tables were upturned, he tore apart of the old tomes that lined Hoster Tully's old study, he ripped an old portrait to shreds and even took to beating the walls until his fists ran red with his blood.

Finally when the devastation of his surroundings matched the devastation of his heart he collapsed onto his knees and finally began to let his tears flow. He had known pain in his life, the Rebellion had taken away half of his family when he was little more than a child and that loss was a constant ache but now with Ned it was different. Will didn't just grieve for his brother; he grieved for the good that Ned brought to the world, the bright sense of honor in an age that was without decency.

His cried until his body could cry no more, his soul genuinely _aching_ from the effort. He did not know how long he sat in the ruins of his room but it mattered little to him either way as he kept replaying all of the horrible things he had said to his brother that he wished he could take back, all conversations that they hadn't had. It wasn't until one of the servants came into his chambers that he was stirred from his misery and harshly commanded the frightened young woman who had come to bring him supper to tell lord Edmure that he would have words.

Edmure Tully had granted him a meeting, though he had insisted that Will remain in chains during the exchange, a fact which enraged Will beyond words.

"Take me to see Robb." He demanded.

Tully stared at him uncomprehendingly. "What?"

"I don't care if you have to have wrapped in chains and with a hundred guards, I am going to see my nephew." He told the heir of Riverrun firmly.

"I don't think you understand your position here, you are a traitor and my prisoner…you don't make demands."

Will narrowed his silver eyes at the other man and took a few steps forwards. "Let me make something very clear to you Edmure; I am not going back to that room alive and if you feel differently then you and your men are welcome to try me, I don't care how many you send I'll fight to my last breath and you can tell Robb how you let his uncle die under your watch."

* * *

When Will arrived in the heart of the Stark host he was presented before his nephews chained from hand to foot and surrounded by half a dozen guards. The looks the various northern lords gave him ranged from mild amusement to disgust, though whether they were disgusted by him personally or just the manner of which he was presented wasn't clear to him.

The first thing he noticed about Robb was how much older the boy seemed, he had not yet seen twenty and already he looked like he had fought in an hundred battles. Standing beside him was Jon, looking as grim as ever and the absolute image of Ned at that age which caused Will another pang of grief.

"Why have you come here Uncle?" asked Robb cordially, though he seemed to be struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Will took a deep breath. "I have done….questionable things, not just since the beginning of this war but throughout my life as well. I have bedded with snakes and lived among sellswords and worst of all I deceived those who loved me most, my own kin." He felt a wave of guilt come over him as he tried to picture how Ned must have felt in the seven years he had been assumed dead. "But everything…_everything_ I have done and will ever do has been in service to House Stark and I beg you now in the sight of Gods and men to allow me to fight for my family once more."

The command tent was mostly silent aside from the soft murmurings of Theon Greyjoy into Robb's ear while Jon began arguing from the other side and to Will's great surprise Catelyn was actually agreeing with him. Finally Robb stood and walked over to Will's chained form.

"You have done me wrong Uncle and your schemes have put our cause at risk….but I know you have never meant us harm." His features softened into concern. "I need your assurances that I can trust you."

"You have them." Replied Will firmly, his silver eyes looking into his nephew's blue. "In the name of my brother I swear it."

"Robb you're not going to just-" started Theon only to cut off by Robb.

"That's enough Theon." The young lord of Winterfell looked at his uncle and in that moment Will could see the grief that the boy felt, the loss of a father. "I'll allow you back into the fold Uncle but if you stray from the path again….."

He didn't need to finish his sentence for Will to understand what he meant; if he was caught acting against Robb or the other northern lords then it would mean his head and likely Robb the one who would swing the sword. He gave a grim nod.

Robb gestured for the men to unshackle him and as the Tully bannermen fumbled with his chains he felt all the eyes of the command tent fall on him once again as he stood awkwardly until finally he was freed and he let out a sigh of relief as the added weight left his body and he could stand without having to slouch over his chains.

Jon came forward and embraced him in a warm hug which Will returned with ferocity after having been away from him for so long. His sister's boy had gained an extra scar since he last laid eyes on him and seemed much wearier, no doubt mourning the only father he had ever known, really the only _parent_ the boy had ever known.

"It's good to see you again lad." He told his nephew as Jon led him over to a seat to Robb's left, as far away from Theon Greyjoy as possible.

"Aye and you too Uncle, times have been…difficult." replied Jon as a pained look crossed his face.

"Things are looking up though." came a weak voice from behind him as Domeric Bolton took a seat beside Will, an arm wrapped in a sling and a bandage over his right eye yet a broad smile on his pallid face.

"Gods be good Dom, you look awful." Gaped Will in shock.

The Bolton only shook his head with a smile. "Good to see you too."

"What happened?" asked the wolf knight as he gestured to Domeric's bandaged form.

He shrugged. "Tywin Lannister's men hit us hard, I was knocked from my horse by some bugger with a mace." He lifted the bandage on his head to reveal a gash that sat just above his right eye. "A few inches lower and it'd have pierced an eye, and then before I could get to my feet the man stomped down on my sword arm….I swear I could hear the bone crack Will, I nearly pissed myself in fear then until Ramsay saved me."

Stark raised his brow. "Ramsay? Who's Ramsay?"

Domeric had an uncomfortable look on his face and he hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "He's…my brother, or half-brother actually; my father's bastard."

Will frowned at that. He heard stories of Roose Bolton's bastard son, though from what he had heard was that the man had disdained his baseborn son and had little to do with the man and in truth Will assumed that the bastard was dead already. "What sort of man is he?"

The lord of Dreadfort seemed to almost wince at the question. "He is….a bit rough around the edges. I suppose it's my father's doing for leaving him to be raised by himself amongst the smallfolk and letting his violence go untreated….but I cannot just turn my back on him; he is my _blood."_

The wolf knight did not wish to fight his friend after having been parted from him for so long and merely advised Domeric to be careful around the man. His friend's face then went somber as he looked over at Will with a sympathetic look.

"I…I'm sorry to hear about your brother Will, he was a good man."

Will was silent. He looked down at his hands and imagined them wrapped around Joffrey's throat, his golden haired face turning purple as he squeezed the light out of his Lannister eyes but then felt a pang of shame; Ned would not wish him to act like a savage, even to his enemies. "He was the best man I ever knew, this world is a far darker place now that he has left it." He said finally.

Afterwards they sat in near silence as the various lords discussed the situation south with Robb and the matter of which of the Baratheon brothers to ally with came up. While a few lords suggested Stannis on account of Ned's approval of the man, most seemed to be in favor of raising their banners for Renly, as he had the greater numbers.

Robb however, bristled at the idea. "Bran cannot inherit before me so Renly cannot inherit before Stannis!"

One of the other lords looked at him in shock. "Surely you don't mean to serve Joffrey my lord, not after what he did to your father."

Will felt a wave of annoyance hit him at that; surely Stannis wasn't as bad an option that they would have to be forced to deal with Renly or his repulsive nephew. He had only met Lord Stannis once before, during the man's wedding when he was a boy and while he had thought the brooding lord of Dragonstone to be unpleasant he had to admit that the man was just and his actions during the Greyjoy Rebellion had saved the life of Will and his men after the Iron Fleet was smashed.

Suddenly the GreatJon rose from his chair and unsheathed his large sword, holding it high above everyone else. "My lords, why should we pay homage to some Southron fool who sits his arse far away from us and our lands? It was the Dragons we knelt to and now the Dragons are all dead!" He then pointed his sword towards Robb. "There sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to…the King IN THE NORTH!"

It was as if a flood gate had opened and suddenly all the other northern lords were following the GreatJon's lead and began echoing with proclamations of 'King in the North!' and then even the Riverlords were with them chanting 'King of the Trident!' and soon the whole crowd were bowing to their king while Robb sat in stunned silence, a curious look on his face.

Will wanted to tell them it was folly, that by claiming themselves as independent they had essentially put the North and the Riverlands against five other kingdoms with infinitely more gold and men-though he did not speak such thoughts aloud- he knew that while he may have been brought back to camp he did not hold the position of trust he once held.

Soon Jon and even Domeric went down on a knee in support and Will realized that he was the last, and after a brief moment did the same though with far greater hesitation than the rest. After that Robb finally rose from his chair, standing proud and tall like the king they were all calling him.

In that moment Will could see in Robb's eyes, eyes that were completely unlike a Stark's, yet just how much of Ned was in the boy and it was then that he understood what he needed to do; Ned may have left the world but his son remained and Will was going to fight his way through seven hells if it meant protecting Robb.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"


	41. Deals

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the story.**

"I intend on going west and taking the Crag after we've finished consolidating our power base here in the Riverlands."

Will sat in silence as his nephew informed all of the northern lords their various duties and laid out his battle plans. It still amazed the Wolf knight how easily Robb had assumed his new position as king in the North, giving commands to men twice his age. "While I'm away Lord Bolton is to remain in charge of our forces here, is that understood?"

The lords all agreed with the assessment and Robb began to move onto his plans for the western forces that were still under Tywin Lannister's control and how to best liberate them from the Lord of Casterly Rock. Will was reminded of all the war councils he had been a part of during his campaigns in the east, though his opponents then were admittedly much less fearsome as Tywin Lannister.

After all was said and done Will and the others were excused and went back to their respective tents to rest for the day to come. The Stark was surprised to find a large raven sitting atop his table pecking away at the wood, once he took a step forward the bird flew to him and Will instinctively held his arm out for it to perch on. He noticed a small letter tied to the bird's leg and undid it's bindings before walking over to the table to read.

He slowly unrolled the message and began to read its contents. He frowned slightly and reread it again, the words slowly sinking into his mind. The tent was silent for nearly an hour save for the occasional caw from the raven sitting at the edge of the desk while the Stark tried to comprehend everything he had just learnt._ Robb and Jon are going to need to hear this…_

Will was lucky that Robb was still up making arrangements with Jon and Catelyn when he arrived. They were in deep discussion and almost didn't seem to notice him before Robb suddenly looked up at him curiously. "Is there something you need uncle?"

The Wolf Knight gave a solemn nod and held up the letter he had received. "This just arrived from Castle Black…" he let that hang in the air for a moment as he struggled with the words and with his own emotions. "Benjen has gone missing beyond the wall, they…..they found his horse but nothing else."

"B-but…he's First Ranger, surely he can survive out there." stated Jon, looking particularly hurt.

Will tried to keep his face impassive as he spoke. "There is a chance he's alive, but Lord Commander Mormont has found many bodies, and his chances of survival grow slim each day he stays out in the Wildling territory on his own."

Robb and Jon both seemed stricken by the news and he could see that Catelyn had tears welling up in her eyes. Will wanted nothing more than to go over to them and share their grief but at the moment he needed to get the rest of the news off his chest. _Just say it you damned fool, say it and be free of the burden._ He knew he could not dress up his actions so decided to say the cold hard facts. "I made a deal with the Night's Watch when I returned to Westeros….back when I plotted to seat Viserys Targaryen on the Iron Throne."

Robb looked up at him in shock which quickly gave way to anger as he stood up from his table. "Tell me what you've done Uncle, and tell it true."

Will rubbed at his stubble and nodded sadly. "Aye, it's too late for secrets… much too late. I made a deal with Lord Commander Mormont, wherein he would allow me to make use of one of the abandoned castles that belonged to the Watch and in return I would give him a large number of recruits and payment to help maintain and garrison the Wall."

The King in the North's expression was steely. "How many men did you promise him?"

"A hundred, as well as five thousand gold dragons." admitted Will.

Catelyn was furious at that. "Why in the name of the Gods would you make such a deal? We are not the Lannisters or Tyrells! We cannot spare that amount of gold and how can you possibly give them a hundred men who would willingly sign away their lives to the Watch?"

"I have thirty criminals currently sitting in the bowels of the Wolf's Den whom I have personally sentenced to the Watch and as you must be aware Cat, we have quite a few Lannister prisoners that are taking up resources and space within our camps…"

Jon frowned at that. "I would ransom those men; it's the honorable thing to do."

"Aye, but how many of those men actually have highborn families that can actually pay for a ransom? Better to have them sent to the Wall and serve the realm than put them to death as Lord Karstark would have us." explained Will, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible.

"And the gold?" probed Cat.

"I have more own coffers at White Harbor, made up of what little gold my Lord father left me and the pay I earned during my time with the Silver Serpents, I can front at least half of the debt and mayhaps Mormont would be willing to accept an installment now and the other half later, with interest once we are on better footing."

The young King looked at Will in confusion. "We're talking about helping you pay back a debt but what exactly did you use that castle for? What was so important that you paid such a price for a frozen ruin of a keep?"

Will frowned a little before shooting a level gaze at his nephew. "It was Wildfire, about twenty jars of Wildfire."

The three Starks stared at Will in shock and horror, though the Wolf knight didn't blame them. The green liquid death was a favorite tool of King Aerys and his kin during their reign and it had been the terror of many men as it burnt hotter and longer than any other substance in the known world after the dragons had died out.

"How….in the world did you get that much Wildfire? And _what_ were you doing with it?" asked Catelyn incredulously.

"Oberyn Martell has more spies in King's Landing than you would believe, the vipers know many secrets from their time married to the dragons….they have been slowly sneaking out small amounts of Wildfire from the alchemists guild for years now and when I returned to Westeros I volunteered to keep it safe while they readied their own plans." The truth of Will's own foolish eagerness to serve the Red Viper had caused a flash of shame to well within him before he quickly smothered it with burning anger. "They are no friends of mine so I would say that the wildfire suits our interests more than it does theirs, why not have the substance transported south and used against Tywin Lannister's men?"

Robb exchanged a glance with his mother and brother. Will had effectively given them a weapon that could either deal a crippling blow to the Lannister forces or blow back in their faces depending on how they decided to utilize it. "I don't claim to be as well travelled as you Uncle but even I know that Wildfire is a volatile thing; we could just as easily kill ourselves as we could the Lannisters, even transporting it would be a hazardous undertaking."

"Aye, but that is why I had it stored so close to the Wall, the dampness and cold is perfect for keeping it dormant and minimizing the risk of it going off. I'd say that most of the jars are frozen over by now."

The king sat back down in his chair and began to consider all that his uncle had said, and for the first time Will noticed how much the iron crown weighed on the lad, in body and soul. Not for the first time cursed GreatJon Umber for trapping Robb in this position. _He accepted it, _he reminded himself. _It may not have been easy but he could have denied the crown if he truly wanted…_

"We would need a trustworthy man to see it done. Not just the Wildfire but also the exchange of gold and prisoners to the Night's Watch." said Robb after a time.

"I'd gladly do it myself if need be."

Robb waved the idea off. "No, I have other plans for you uncle. Perhaps you could send one of the Manderlys in your place?"

Will was about to argue the point when suddenly he was cut off by Jon. "I will go, who better to carry out the task than one of Eddard Stark's own sons and the heir of Wolf's Den?"

Robb looked torn at that, he appreciated having his brother by his side during all of his battles and could confide in him like few others, yet he knew that Jon was the most capable man for the job and after a time he gave a forlorn nod in agreement. "Aye, so be it."

* * *

Later that night Jon accompanied Will back to his tent to be briefed in every piece of information the elder Stark could provide on the handling of Wildfire. Will had told Jon that it was best to travel during night rather than day in the odd chance that it stops snowing long enough for the sun to come out and warm the jars. Likewise he informed him that it was best to pack as much snow around the jars as they could to stop any shakes and bumps from damaging the small clay containers whilst on the roads.

"And when you get to Castle Black you are to speak with either Lord Commander Mormont or Maester Aemon, no one else. Is that understood?" he warned.

"Yes Uncle, though…. What if they don't accept your payment?" asked Jon with a hint of concern in his voice.

"I have faith that they will, the Old Bear is the honorable man and a good friend to House Stark, and I'm sure he'll be thankful for what we give him." Jon nodded at that yet it was apparent to the elder Stark that there something on his mind that was concerning him. "You know, Robb will be surrounded by dozens of capable warriors who would gladly die for him, besides, you've seen how skilled he is at battle."

Jon looked up at his uncle despondently then. "Just like Uncle Benjen was supposed to be skilled? Or Father? They were the bravest men I ever knew and now they're gone and my sisters are held prisoner, no one is safe Uncle. No one."

Will's face turned impassive and he poured himself a cup of wine, taking a mouthful before addressing his nephew. "Aye, we're all at risk. If there's one lesson that I have learnt from war it's that you can't save everyone. People die; all you can do is your best and hope that you'll be able to save at least a few of the ones you love." He gave a reassuring smile before smacking Jon's shoulder good naturedly after that. "But enough philosophy, it's late and you have a big day on the morrow."

The younger Stark seemed to consider everything that Will had said before giving an absent nod and returning to his own tent. Once he was alone Will went about writing all the necessary letters that Jon would need to show that he was indeed acting under the Wolf knight's instruction and the instruction of the king in the North.

He hesitated after he had written everything and thought back to the look in Jon's eyes earlier. For so long he had assumed that the boy was identical to Ned in appearance but now that he had a chance to reflect on it he noticed that the boy's eyes were more Lyanna's than anything. He wondered how Lyanna would feel about Jon, if she would be proud of the man he had become, if she had any hopes for him, hopes that may have been reliant on the boy's other name….his father's name. _No,_ he reminded himself _If Jon was to be a part of that then his life would be in grave danger_.

With that thought in his head he took his quill and began writing another letter.

* * *

Will was just about to prepare for bed when young Olyvar Frey entered his tent looking nervous as he informed the Stark that King Robb requested his presence, so with a weary sigh he rose from his table and followed the boy through the camp to his nephew's tent.

"It seems that no one sleeps anymore." joked Will as he walked in.

Robb gave him an exhausted smile. "There are not enough hours in a day."

"Indeed, but still we do the best we can with what we have."

The young king glanced down at a map of the south briefly before looking back at Will with a curious expression. "Did you ever win any tourneys Uncle?"

The elder Stark was a little put off by his nephew's question but answered none the less. "I came close during the tourney of Lannisport many years ago, but lost in the second-to-last round against Ser Jorah Mormont…why do you ask?"

"You have been south more than any other Stark and have mingled with the various lords of the Stormlands and Reach…..I want you to ride South and offer Renly Baratheon an alliance."

Will clenched his jaw at that and for a moment said nothing. He could still recall the tourney at Storm's End and the mocking laughter of Renly and his Tyrell friends. "Why do you want to make an alliance with Renly? Stannis has a better claim than him."

"Aye, he has a better claim but a smaller army. Renly commands the loyalty of both Storm's End and Highgarden, with him as our ally we could outnumber the Lannisters two to one and end this war in a week." There was a confidence in Robb's voice that was both reassuring and bothersome to Will.

"I'll do it but I can't guarantee anything, I haven't spoken to Renly in years." He replied with tired acceptance.

"I only ask that you try Uncle."

Will bowed his head and left the king after that, finding himself almost frightened of going back to the place where he had lost so much, the home of his greatest mistake. He had trouble sleeping that night as he knew that come the dawn he would be riding out into the storm once more.


	42. The Fall

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the story, it keeps me going!**

The Stormlands were just as dreary as Will remembered. The skies seemed to be constantly overcast, threatening rain the whole journey south and the strong winds that assaulted them made travel difficult when out in the open.

Will's mood had begun to match his surroundings and he found his patience running thin, occasionally snapping at one of his men whenever they asked him a question or needed instruction. He kept thinking of that tourney seven years ago and the scorn and laughter that Renly and the lords of the Reach had thrown at him, the way they looked down on him for being an uncouth northerner.

_I have changed since then,_ he kept reminding himself. _I have seen and done things they could only dream of from inside their cushioned homes._

They set up camp amongst a collection of old willow trees that gave them shelter enough from the cold winds and hungry animals roaming the countryside and they supped on a nice brown stew that one of the Tully men had made. Will sat with them and listened to their bawdy jokes with a slight smile as they provided him with a brief distraction from his troubles.

"How much longer do you think this weather will hold up Ser Willam?" asked Torrhen Karstark in between spoonfuls of stew.

"It'll probably stay this way the entire time we're here. Not to worry though, I know an inn about half a day's ride from here and the owner won't ask questions."

"D'you have many friends south Milord?" asked one of the young soldiers.

"Some." He admitted before going back to his stew.

In truth it was from one of Leonette's letters that he had found out about the inn right on the borders of the Stormlands and the Reach, he had taken to reading what few he had left though they brought him heartache and little else. The men began singing to themselves quietly after that and Will curled up beneath his cloak, hoping to dream of Nymeria.

But as sleep took hold it was Leonette Fossoway he saw, her golden hair gently moving in the night air as she walked up to Will and gave him a hungry kiss. With her luminous hair and robes she was like a warm ray of sunlight in the darkness of the Godswood, and her kiss tasted of strawberries. _Leonette was strawberries and sweet things, so unlike the fiery spice of Nymeria…the two women who hold my heart in their fierce grip._

Suddenly the taste of strawberries turned to ashes in his mouth and when he pulled away he saw Leonette, covered in flames and looking up at him full of loathing, and her sky blue eyes instead turned a horrible shade of red as the flames spread from her body and across the godswood, consuming the large and ancient trees.

The burning wraith that used to be Leonette lunged at him then, her touch scolding and blistering the skin of his arms as he tried to force her away. Just as the flames wrapped around his body and began to make his innards boil he heard her whisper something, though it came more as a hiss than any real words. "_I want my crown of blue roses!"_

Torrhen woke him with a gentle shake. The sun was just coming up over a hill, its rays just barely breaking through the heavy rain clouds. The men were all groggily getting to their feet and moving over to the camp fire where the Tully man had begun preparing salted fish and oats for them to break their fast on.

They began their day's ride early and did not stop for hours until they had finally reached the tiny inn that sat by a crossroads; smoke billowing from the chimney like an invitation. When Will and his men entered, there was an awkward silence as several drunken customers eyed them up and down to access for any potential danger. After a beat they all returned to their drinks and began their conversation anew and the old man who served as proprietor of the modest business hurried over to them with a weary smile.

"How might I be helping you fine Sers this day?" he asked cheerfully.

"We need room and board for a night, and our horses fed and watered." replied Will evenly.

The old man scratched his beard and looked at the northmen cautiously. "Do you have gold?"

"Aye." Will held out a small bag of gold dragons, and after the man bit down on a coin to make certain it was real, nodded his head and waved the men into the warmth of his inn and gestured for them to take a seat on one of the empty tables sitting by the hearth.

They settled in and Will stretched out underneath the table and let the heat of the fire work its way into his muscles. Eventually the old man returned with mugs of ale for them all and informed them that a nice side of pork was currently getting ready.

Will stopped the man up as he made to leave. "What news of the war?"

The old man gave a deep sigh and shook his head in distaste. "Madness, as usual. The Lannisters hold the capitol in the name of Joffrey while the rest of the lions face the Wolves in the Riverlands, though from what people have been saying Joffrey and the rest of those children were fathered by the Kingslayer rather than Robert."

The thought of Cersei Lannister committing incest with her twin brother made the bile in Will's stomach churn and only furthered his hatred of the golden haired family. _This is why Cersei Lannister killed my brother_. "Bastards sitting the Throne…"

"Aye, it is dark times my friend. Renly Baratheon has gathered his host of the Tyrell army and a majority of the Stormlords and intends to march back to Storm's End and face his brother Stannis."

"The Baratheons would fight each other? Are they mad?" asked Will in shock.

"War is madness, there's no other way about it….but it is a sad day indeed when two brothers would take up arms against one another, thank the Gods Lord Steffon did not live to see what happened to his boys."

The Stark nodded. "If Lord Steffon Baratheon was still alive then I'd say quite a few things would be different, not just the nature of his sons' relationship."

The old man hummed at that and went off to attend the meals while the Wolf knight stared into the fire and let his thoughts wander and his muscles relax. He hadn't got a very refreshing sleep the night before and the day's ride had taken much out of him so he allowed himself to doze in his seat.

He sleep was thankfully dreamless though regrettably short and he was nudged awake by the old innkeeper as he laid a plate of roast pork right in front of him causing his stomach to grumble wantonly. He ate like a man possessed and from what he could tell so were the men with him as they bit into the first decent piece of food they'd eaten in nearly a fortnight.

Once their bellies were full of pork and they had drunk their share of ale, the men all went on to their lodgings while Will stayed up and listened to the various rumors that were floating about the inn. The most reoccurring was that Stannis Baratheon had forsaken the Seven and had taken to worshiping some fire god, which in Will's experience likely meant Red R'hllor. In Essos Will had seen his fair share of the Lord of Light and had thought their night fires to be interesting, if not a little frightening in their fanaticism. _Stannis Baratheon is many things but a fanatic is not one of them…_ the thought of what could drive such a man into the arms of the red god bothered the Stark quite a bit and when he slept that night his dreams were once again plagued by fire.

* * *

They left early the next morning and rode hard for hours until they were finally they came across a series of green and gold tents littering the countryside around what appeared to be a tourney ground. To the Stark it was like walking into a memory from seven years ago, the same banners flapping in the wind, the exact same coloring of the sky. He felt a chill settle deep into his bones that no northern wind could cause, it brought a sting of shame.

He took a breath and urged his horse onwards into the camp, the silver Direwolf of House Stark being displayed on a banner behind him providing silent support. They came within a few feet from the camp before being stopped by several Tyrell guards on horseback.

"Who goes there?" asked the closest.

"Willam of House Stark, I'm here to see Lord Renly." He announced with sureness he didn't know he had.

"That's _king_ Renly." snapped one of the guards before looking at the northmen before him and the peace banner in the air. He took a moment to weigh his options before giving the slightest of nods. "Your men stay here."

Torrhen and the others looked as though they wanted to argue but Will gave them assurances that Renly would not be so stupid to attack someone carrying a banner of peace. After dismounting he followed the burly Tyrell man through the camp and the Stark noticed that there was a commotion up ahead as the cheers and shouts of men filled the air. He looked to his escort for answers but found none from the mean spirited man as he sullenly took Willam towards the scene of excitement.

What he saw before him was the familiar sight of a tourney melee taking place as dozens of men stood around and watched as the two knights fought each other brutally. Sitting high in wooden stand above it all sat Renly Baratheon dressed in the finest armor money could buy with a green cloak about his shoulders though what caught Will's attention first was the golden crown sitting above his head, it looked more like an elegant version of Robert's stag antler crown though much less bulky. _A crown should weigh on a king's head_ thought the Stark with distaste.

It took Will a moment to realize that the woman sitting to Renly's left was in fact Margaery Tyrell. He had only met the rose of Highgarden once before when she was much younger but there was no mistaking that same lovely brown hair and finely carved features. _So he's married into the family ey? Well I suppose now that gives him a better excuse to keep Loras around…_

The Stark was shaken from his observations when he saw a large knight fighting in the center melee knock away his opponent's blade and begin wailing on him with his big mailed fists. Whoever the tall man was he had an amazing skill at battle that Will could only compare to Sandor Clegane and wondered what House the man hailed from.

Suddenly the big knight tackled his opponent to the ground with a sickening thud and continued to beat on the downed man's form until finally the other knight cried out in submission. With that Renly rose from his seat and began a slow clap, causing the rest of the crowd to follow suit.

The defeated knight removed his helm revealing the face of Loras Tyrell, looking like a sullen child. Slowly the other knight removed his helm, at first Will couldn't be sure of the man's name but on closer inspection he saw that it was in fact a woman, not a man; Brienne of Tarth or better known as Brienne the Beauty due to her homely features. Despite the truth of it Will still felt that it was a cruel name.

Renly Baratheon stared down at her with his most charming smile. "You are everything your father promised and more. Ask me any boon and I would grant it for you."

The big woman merely went to one knee at kept her eyes averted in a gesture of respect. "I would only ask to have the chance to serve your grace, with a place on your rainbow guard."

"You have it. Henceforth you will be Brienne the blue, to serve as part of my royal guard." He announced happily with a dazzling smile that won over many of the crowd.

Suddenly Will felt a pair of rough hands push him forwards so that he was standing out before the would-be king. He felt all eyes instantly fall on him yet he did not let that deter him and he stood up straight and took a few steps forward. Renly's expression was one of clear shock and for a moment he seemed at a loss for words before suddenly he remembered himself and his faux smile came across once again.

"Ser Willam Stark, back from the dead and standing right before my very eyes. Today _has_ been rewarding after all." He said with a slight laugh before focusing his Baratheon blue eyes on Will. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Will swallowed his anger and tried his best to imitate the icy expression his older brothers had worn so well when speaking to other lords. "I have come to discuss the war, and perhaps an alliance between our two Houses."

Ser Loras gave a snort at that. "If Robb Stark wants to make an alliance he should come himself."

The wolf knight gave Tyrell as sharp look. "My nephew has defeated the Lannisters _three_ times in open combat, tell me Ser Loras, what victories do you claim? "

Tyrell gave Will a look of utmost loathing and for a moment there was silence as the two stared off but before the two knights could come to blows Renly walked between them, the same smile on his face. "Now Loras, is that really any way to treat our guest?" he turned to Will. "Come Ser Willam, tonight you shall enjoy the hospitality of the Stormlands and the Reach."

* * *

Before the festivities were to begin, Renly called for Will to join him in his tent and had sent the lady Brienne as his escort. The big woman walked comfortably in her suit of armor and had a look in her eye that Will had only ever seen in a few of the most experienced knights and thought it ironic that such a woman could never be an actual knight.

Renly was sitting at his table, still dressed in his fancy armor and casually sipping on a cup of wine while another sat in front of him. When he saw Will entered he gestured the Stark over with a grin, that same grin he had plastered on his face for the last hour, and pushed the cup forward as Will took a seat across from him and hesitated before accepting the drink. _Renly wouldn't have me poisoned, for everything else he is the man is no craven _reflected Will.

"Before we begin with all of this political nonsense I must express my deep sorrow over the loss of your brother, he was a good man, an honorable man." said Renly in a solemn tone.

Will gave a nod and took a sip of wine. "Aye, I hear that we have both lost brothers to the Lannisters."

Renly smiled over the rim of his cup, a smile that did not belong on the face of someone whose brother had just died. "Indeed. It's all the more reason why you and your nephew should declare for me; I can help you gain vengeance against Cersei and Joffrey."

_There it is. _"Let me make something clear to you Renly; the North would be willing to fight _with_ you but not _for _you. We are a free and independent kingdom; the rest of you southerners can keep your damned Iron Throne."

The Baratheon went quiet then and silence filled the tent. Renly took a long mouthful of wine before setting the cup delicately back into place. "Then I see no reason why we should be enemies."

Will let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and felt a wave of relief wash over him. With the Tyrell host on their side they could outnumber the Lannisters two-to-one and in their desperation would sue for peace, if they were smart. _I just hope Tywin Lannister is as smart as everyone says, for Arya and Sansa's sake…_

"Though of course, I would require Robb to swear an oath of basic fealty to me." chimed in Renly, shaking Will from his thoughts.

"What sort of oath?" asked Will cautiously.

"The same your brother swore to Robert; protection from the wildlings north of the Wall and the Ironborn as well as willingness to help defend the south if need be. After that your nephew can go on calling himself King in the North and your people can retain a level of independence."

The Stark thought on it, the terms were likely as best they were going to get from anyone else in the south and most of the other lords who swore fealty to Winterfell would happily accept them. _Yes, this is the right path_ he assured himself. "I will take these terms back to my nephew."

"Splendid! But before you go I insist that you stay for the feasts, I won't have it said that I am an inhospitable host!" laughed Renly as he happily shook Will's hand before a dark look passed his face. "That worm Petyr Baelish has been slithering about my camp trying to dig his way into my army….it'd be wise if you two keep your distance for the moment."

Will was caught off guard by the level of danger that Renly's tone held and gave the slightest of nods in acknowledgement before being escorted back to his tent.

The feast had been much like every other thing in Renly Baratheon's life; frivolous and unnecessary. Of course during the celebrations many of the knights and lords that had flocked around Renly had happily declared their undying support and loyalty to the king. It displeased Will to a great extent as he watched them all laugh and dance like it was just some other tourney for them to enjoy and not a battle for the very throne itself. _War is not a game, even in the east as we moved from one battle to the next we never allowed ourselves to grow as lax as this lot_ he thought disdainfully.

He was seated to Renly's right while the lady Margaery and her brother sat to the king's left, the knight of flowers glaring daggers at Stark the whole time. The lord of Storm's End and future king sat in quiet discussion with his lady wife for much of the night, an oddity given the King's preferences of bedmates. Will kept himself occupied by talking to Ser Aemon Estermont, who was Renly's cousin through his mother Cassana. The hardened knight discussed tourneys come and gone and provided Will with a much need distraction to help him get through the night's event.

Suddenly a cheer went up through the camp as a new group of figures arrived, making their way through the masses of people. Ser Loras rose from his seat and hurried over to the emerging figure and embraced him in a fierce hug and it was then that Will realized that the other man was Garlan Tyrell. The Stark frowned at the sight and felt his hands clench up. He desired to kill Garlan Tyrell more than anything else in the world at that moment despite the fact that he and the man had hardly exchanged more than a handful of words seven years ago.

Will felt his heart stop beating the moment he saw Leonette walk out beside Garlan. In the seven years since he had last laid eyes on her the woman had only grown more beautiful, there was a maturity in the way she moved, a confidence that wasn't there back when she was just a young girl. _She will probably be the lady of Highgarden someday_ he reminded himself wistfully.

She was all smiles and courtesies as they made their way towards Renly; however a smile died on her face as soon as she spotted Will sitting beside the king and she suddenly looked very frightened. He kept his face an icy mask as he watched her approach and felt a sliver of satisfaction when she averted her eyes from his.

"Your Grace, I see you've started without me." laughed Garlan Tyrell as he stepped up before Renly.

"Yes well, it's a special occasion…I have just cemented an alliance with the Starks." beamed the king.

Garlan spotted Will and gave a deep bow. "I am glad to have your family by our side Ser Willam."

Will nodded in return but otherwise remained silent. When Renly noticed the look he was giving Leonette he quickly had Garlan and his bride seated on the complete other side of the table, no doubt anxious to keep anything from ruining his new alliance.

He turned to the Stark then, as if a sudden idea had come over him. "I'm riding out to meet with my brother on the morrow; I'd like you to join me."

"Surely you don't mean to fight Stannis!" asked Will incredulously.

"There's no negotiating with that stubborn fool, his forces already threaten Storm's End. No, I will speak to him on the morrow and if he still doesn't see sense then I shall crush his army."

* * *

Around midday the next morning Will did as Renly Baratheon bid him and joined him at the parley with his brother Stannis. The Stark felt out of place amongst the various Reach lords who helped escort the young king to the neutral territory and the fact that he was forced to ride up front with Renly and Ser Loras only made matters worse.

Stannis was already waiting for them when they arrived, looking as stern as ever. Will found it incredible odd how one man could look so much like a Baratheon yet look so different from Renly and Robert; like his brothers Stannis was broad of shoulder and quite tall with the typical Baratheon coloring of coal black hair and blue eyes along with the strong, square jaw that his both his brothers possessed, yet his features were much harder than his siblings ever could be and his mouth seemed to be permanently set into a deep frown.

To his right sat an exotic looking woman that Will instantly recognized as a red priestess of R'hllor. Despite his best intentions he couldn't help but stare at the woman, with her heart shaped face and copper hair that matched the red of her flowing silken robes which stood out against her pale skin. Every time a particularly strong gust of wind blew across them the red silk would cling to her form and give evidence to her voluptuous shape and cause a swell of desire from within the Stark.

On the other side of Stannis sat Ser Davos Seaworth the Onion Knight. Will had met the man when he accompanied Ned to lord Stannis' wedding as a boy and had later been told by his older brother that Ser Davos had saved the lives of every single person in Storm's End during Robert's rebellion and that Stannis had raised him up as a knight yet taken the ends of his fingers for his past actions as a smuggler, the bones of which still hung around the neck of the man even as he sat across from Will.

Renly tilted his head when he saw his brother. "Can that truly be you?"

Stannis stared at the younger Baratheon with a steel expression. "Who else might it be?"

"When I saw your standard I couldn't be sure…whose banner is that?" asked Renly with smirk as he gestured to the flaming stag that adorned the Lord of Dragonstone's banners.

"My own."

"Well I suppose if we use the same one then the battle will be terrible confusing, but why is your stag on fire?"

It was the red woman who spoke this time with a voice that sounded exotic even to someone as well travelled as Will. "The king has taken for his sigil the fiery heart of the Lord of Light."

Renly gave a smug grin as he looked the woman up and down, taking note of her strange beauty. "You must be this fire priestess we hear so much about." He turned to Stannis with a laugh. "Brother now I understand why you finally found religion so late in life!"

"Watch yourself Renly." He spat with thinly veiled hatred.

"No, I'm relieved! I never really took you for a fanatic; charmless, rigid, a bore, yes, but not a godly man."

Finally Will had had enough and urged his horse forward so that he stood between the two feuding brothers and turned to them both pleadingly. "Please, enough of this petty squabbling! Tywin Lannister is a threat to all of us, why waste your time fighting each other?"

Stannis turned his dark blue eyes onto the Stark with a gaze that almost made him flinch. "I find it strange that you are in the Stormlands Ser Willam, your brother and liege lord was a supporter of my claim to the Iron Throne and yet you allow your nephew to try and steal away the northern half of my kingdom."

"We have the same foe!"

The lord of Dragonstone ground his teeth at that and looked from Will to Renly and his Tyrell guards with an expression of utmost distaste and unbidden fury. "The Iron Throne is _mine._ By all the laws of Westeros it is mine by right, all those who deny that fact are my foes."

Surprisingly Renly just laughed at his brother's anger and looked off to the left and then the right before returning his smile to his elder sibling. "The whole realm denies it, from Dorne to the Wall. Old men deny it with their death rattles and unborn children deny it in their mothers' wombs. _No one _wants you for their king brother."

Stannis clenched his jaw and looked as though he would have gladly throttled Renly then and there but instead he managed to restrain himself. "For the sake of the mother who bore us I will give you this one night to reconsider. Strike your banners; come to me before dawn and I will grant you your old seat on the council. I'll even name you my heir until a son is borne to me….otherwise I shall destroy you."

Renly's face had lost all of its usual warmth and energy and with a frown he gestured over to his army just over the hill, the banners of every major house in the Stormlands and the Reach blowing in the wind. "Look across those fields brother, do you see those banners?"

"You think a few bolts of cloth makes you king?"

"No. The men holding those bolts of cloth will make me king."

"We shall see Renly, come the dawn, we shall see." Stannis didn't seem the least bit fazed by his brothers army and simply took his men and turned to leave.

Will urged his horse over to them. "Please! Don't do this! I don't want to fight you Stannis!"

The Baratheon paused briefly and looked over at Will with an unreadable expression before exchanging a glance with the Onion Knight. After a moment he continued on with his bannermen and rode back to their camp yet his Red Woman lingered for a while and urged her horse over to Will and gave him an enigmatic smile. "The light of R'hllor burns within you Wolf Knight, but you must put your faith in the _true_ king, for the night is dark and full of terrors."

* * *

He returned to Renly's camp shortly after the fruitless exchange and headed straight to his tent, hoping to be leaving the Stormlands by nightfall. However as he entered his tent to gather up the last of his items he was greeted by the sight of Leonette sitting at his table with two glasses of wine in her hands.

Will wanted to curse and scream at her to leave, to leave and never come back, but he was too tired. He was tired of the hatred and pain and grief that came whenever he tried to push away the things that he cared about and for better or worse that included Leonette. "You're leaving soon?" she asked quietly as she walked over and handed him a cup of wine.

"My business here is done, I have to go back to Robb and tell him of our alliance."

Leonette nodded and he thought he saw the slightest gleam of disappointment flash across her blue eyes before she quickly looked down into her wine cup. "Is there nothing that might convince you to stay?"

The Stark raised a brow at that and took a step closer. "We're not going to go down that path. You chose Garlan."

Her sky blue eyes shot up to his and within they held some quiet determination. "That doesn't mean I don't care about _you_."

"You can't have it both ways Leonette." He replied as he took a sip of his wine, feeling the warmth spread in his chest. "You and I may still care for one another but that doesn't change the fact that you married Garlan. You've said the vows and I won't help you humiliate another."

Leonette had tears welling up in her eyes then but rather than face him she kept her gaze on the cup of wine in his hand the whole time and when she did finally speak it was with a shaking voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that, I…I even tried to tell you earlier." Her hand hovered over her stomach briefly then and a renewed strength came through her then. "How often did we actually write? I sent you one or two letters a month; I spent more time in person with Garlan than I ever did with you. I had to live in the real world Will, and my being with you was nothing more than a happy dream."

Will narrowed his silver eyes at her. "I understand that, but it doesn't change the fact that you let me believe we could be together….you betrayed me."

"You think I don't know that? For seven years I thought you were dead." There was pain  
in her voice. "When Renly and Garlan and the others couldn't find you we all thought…." her voice caught and her beautiful eyes were rimmed with red. "I thought that I had killed you."

He wanted to go to her and kiss away her sorrows yet kept himself in place. He took a breath and let the anger evaporate from his body. "You almost did….but you also made me a stronger person."

She flinched at his words, and gave him a curious look before slowly bringing her hand up to his cheek. Her palm was soft as silk and so very warm as she slowly traced the various scars that adorned his face with her thumb. He wanted more than anything to be able to take her in his arms and embrace him and feel the better of her heart against him but those thoughts quickly left him and he removed her hand from his face.

"I am returning to Riverrun soon and it's possible that I may be killed, and even if I'm not it's unlikely I will be in the Reach for a long time…I would not like my last memory of you to be of us arguing and blaming each other. You have a life and I have a life, that should be enough."

Leonette's face seemed to grow paler and she forced a smile, before raising her cup of wine. "One last toast then, to all the good times we had with each other."

"I'll happily drink to that." said Will before he swallowed a mouthful.

The sweet taste of the amber liquid was quickly replaced by a burning sensation deep in the Stark's chest and suddenly he found himself struggling to breath. Soon the uncomfortable feeling turned to a horrible pain and Will's legs suddenly gave way beneath him. As soon as his body hit the ground he felt a wave of nausea come over him and he wretched up on himself, only instead of pile coming from his throat was a gush of blood causing his eyes to widen in fear as the pool of dark red began to cover his body.

Suddenly Leonette was cradling his head in her lap; her once beautiful face was stricken with grief as she gently held his shaking body. "I'm sorry!" she wept , clutching at him as he continued to choke on his own life blood. He could hardly see or hear anything as his insides twisted and burnt yet he could still feel Leonette's repetitious apology being whispered into him as he found himself being embraced by the darkness.


	43. The Bastard's Brother

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: As always, thank you to everyone who left a review. It keeps me inspired.**

The Dream was always the same.

He was a child again, maybe nine or ten and without greater knowledge of the world at large. It was almost completely dark yet his ears led him forwards through the gloom, a faint noise just up ahead. Despite being dressed in only his night clothes he found that it was oddly warm as he walked further into the darkness.

The noises were becoming louder with each step he took and though a part of him was desperately trying to stop and turn around, his body continued on despite his wishes. He felt forwards and knew that he had come to a door, his father's secret room.

Then he heard the sounds of screaming coming from the other side of the door.

He listened in terror, stiff as stone as the wails grew louder and louder. His own inner voice was telling him to turn and run all the way to his chambers and to hide under his bed, but instead his hand reached out and pushed the door open. Inside stood three men, holding knives and pliers and other tools he had never seen before. His father was standing there too, his arms crossed as he coldly watched over the men, and something…red.

Hanging on a large x shape was a man whose whole body was painted red from his neck down. He didn't quite understand what exactly he was seeing until he focused on the man's hanging body. At first he thought that the red paint hadn't dried and was running, but then he saw the way the man's chest moved, the way his muscle shook. Only then did he realize that the man had no skin.

_"Domeric?"_ called his father's voice in a slightly louder tone than he normally used. _"I thought I told you to never come down here."_

And like always he woke with a start, unable to breathe or remember where he was. Most often his bed and small clothes would be soaked with sweet and his head would be pounding away. Despite the years and space he put between himself and those memories they would always return. _My constant companions, _he thought as he lay back down. _You'll remain with me till the day I die._

Domeric Bolton lay back in his bed for another hour or so, tossing and turning as he struggled to clear his mind. The room was dim. Grey light leaked through the shutters, promising a bleak cold day. Finally he threw off his covers and stretched out his aching muscles, hearing an audible crack come his neck. He took a mouthful of water from the flagon sitting beside his bed and washed away the cotton feeling in his mouth before pouring the rest of the water into a basin and began washing his face and hands. He dressed himself and went outside to make his daily walk around the encampment, his black and pink cloak draped about his shoulders.

The air was brisk, made worse by a bothersome wind. _This will not be a pleasant morning, _Domeric feared. Walking had always cleared the Bolton's head when he was troubled, either from dreams or his family. He could hear a barrage of sounds about him in the early morning; a few of the men talking to each other from some distance away, no doubt some drill being run by the Blackfish. Smith's beating away at armor for the soldiers, camp followers passing gossip about some lord or knight they had lain with, dogs barking. Such noises had become a daily part of Domeric Bolton's life now that he was given a key position in Robb Stark's war. _It's your war too,_ he reminded himself. _The whole of the North fights to be free._

In his travels he found himself stopping by the stables to see his horse Shadow. She was an old beast, one that had been with him for nearly ten years, but she was still among the fastest he had ever had trained and he was loath to separate from her. He fed her some sugar cubes that he had snuck away from the camp cook and laughed as she licked his hand. There was nothing more that Domeric wanted than to ride Shadow all the way back to the Dreadfort and be with his wife and soon to be born child but that was only a fool's dream, a fool's hope.

After a while of aimless walking, Domeric finally came to the king's command tent. Two guards stood by the entrance, clad in gray cloaks and iron halfhelms, spears in their hands. They dipped their heads at Domeric as he entered. Robb Stark stood behind a roughhewn table, staring intently at a large map of the Westerlands that had been painted on a piece of hide. The rug where Grey Wind slept was empty, he saw.

The king no longer looked a boy anymore; war had carved all the softness from his face and left only a man. His beard was trimmed short, though his auburn hair hung long and uncut about his shoulders. On his head was the sword crown they had fashioned him of bronze and iron. In his hand was a parchment with a broken seal of dark gray wax.

"Your Grace?" asked Domeric, his voice heavy with anxiety. "Is there news?"

Robb frowned at him, and held up the parchment miserably. "Word from Torrhen Karstark…Renly Baratheon is dead."

Domeric gaped at that. "Beg pardons but how did he die your grace?"

"One of his Kingsguard killed him in the privacy of his tent, though Ser Torrhen said that men whisper a shadow murdered him." Robb crushed the letter in his fist. "That is not all he tells me, he says that there has been no word from my uncle…..he fears that he was murdered in the confusion of Renly's death."

Domeric's eyes burned and he felt something get stuck in his throat. _You've died once already Will, didn't you get your fill of it the first time?_ He took a moment to compose himself and brought his eyes back to the King in the North who was likewise struggling with himself. Finally Domeric found himself capable of words. "Have there been any ransom demands from the Southerners Your Grace?"

"Not a one. It is queer; we have not heard so much as a whisper about my uncle. I may have to send word back to White Harbor…" the king trailed off before looking down at the map in front of him. "I have sent Theon Greyjoy to make terms with his father." He said suddenly. " Hopefully with the Iron Fleet at our back we can scare the Lannisters into suing for peace."

Domeric kept his face clear of emotion, a trait he had learnt from his father. "That is….an interesting plan your grace. Has your Lady Mother returned to Winterfell yet?"

The faintest of smiles ghosted over Robb's face before he quickly smothered it. "Aye, she is back with my brothers at long last. They need her more than I, especially Bran after…..well; you heard what the Kingslayer did to him."

"Indeed I did, but the Gods are good to have kept his mind intact at least and with Lady Catelyn back in the North we can focus on the South." He replied cordially.

Robb rubbed at his bearded face for a long moment, as though he was lost in thought. The king often lowered his guard around Domeric, knowing that he was a good friend to his uncle Willam, though the Bolton often wondered if it was wise to be so open in front of a bannerman such as him. _Of course,_ he told himself. _A king should listen to those around him. _Yet still the perception of the younger man's weakness continued to nag at his mind, another of his father's lessons not yet rid of._ I should not be thinking of the king as weak. I owe him my allegiance._

Finally the Stark looked up at him with his Tully blue eyes. "We must needs strike out at the Lions in their home; Tywin Lannister has been tearing my grandfather's lands apart for far too long. I mean to attack the Crag and draw lord Tywin's gaze back to us," Another ghost of a smile crossed his face then. "And keep him cut off from King's Landing."

"That would leave them completely vulnerable to Stannis Baratheon and his Stormlords." Domeric felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It's brilliant."

"Well first we need to take the Crag and for that I'll need good men at my side, can I count on you Lord Bolton?" Robb asked.

"I'm your man Your Grace; I will gladly take to the field beside you, as will the men of the Dreadfort." He replied automatically.

The king looked back down at the map laid out before him and began to shift around tiny wooden wolves over what looked to be ruin that House Westerling called home. _The Westerlings have little in men or finances, they should fall easily enough._ To the south sat Ashmark, and below that the Golden Tooth, if they could strike hard enough and swiftly enough then they would all fall one after the other.

Domeric faintly caressed the little wooden flayed man that sat amongst the pack of wolves. His men would fight hard and follow direction perfectly just as his father had taught them, though he felt ill at the thought of unleashing some of his father's men on the unsuspecting Westerners. Men like Steelshanks Walton could at least be relied on to follow orders well enough, while men like Damon Dance-for-Me, Luton and Sour Alyn were prone to acts of brutality and savagery. Lord Roose Bolton had no doubt kept them in line, but Roose was dead and now there was only Domeric._ That's not true,_ said a disturbing voice in the back of his mind. _There is another of Bolton…_

The thoughtful silence of the tent was suddenly disturbed when Brynden Tully entered. Adorned in his black scale armor and with his hard, weathered face and stern blue eyes the man seemed every bit the ferocious warrior people said he was. "Your Grace, I'm not intruding am I?" he asked in his smoky voice. "I have word from your mother."

"I shall leave you both to it," Said Domeric. "Your Grace, Ser Brynden."

Robb waved him away before turning to speak with his great uncle. It was cold outside but nothing compared to the North, or even the Vale, yet still Domeric shivered. Something clawed away at the back of his mind and Domeric knew that it would only get worse if he tried to delay matters anymore. Taking a breath, the Northman began his slow walk to the other side of the camp. Southron knights walked about him, dressed in plate and mail, dinted and scarred by the battles they had fought, but still bright enough to shine when the caught the morning sun.

A dozen men were splitting logs for a fire as Domeric passed and he could smell breads baking and meats roasting. Finally after what seemed like an eternity he came to the one tent he knew most of the camp wished to avoid and the one tent he had to enter. Inside there was the sound of laughter and when Domeric entered he found his brother sitting around a table with Sour Alyn and Yellow Dick, the three men seemed to have just finished a meal. Ramsay finished sucking on a chicken bone and wiped his greasy mouth on his sleeve and smiled thinly. "Brother."

"Ramsay," said Domeric before sending a cold glare at the two men beside his brother. "I would speak with you alone for a moment."

There was the faintest flicker of something behind those pale eyes of his, eyes that mirrored Domeric's own, that was perhaps annoyance but none the less he smiled a greasy smile and nodded. "Aye, boys leave us."

Sour Alyn and Yellow Dick did so readily enough, no doubt fearful of being in the room with two Boltons at once. After they left Domeric looked over his brother for a moment. Ramsay was by no means a handsome man, with his blotchy skin, broad nose and fat worm like lips he was quite homely. While Domeric had inherited their father's pallid complexion and thin frame, Ramsay was quite stocky and big boned and he wondered how two men of the same seed could be so different. _There are the eyes though, _he thought. _Father's gift to us both._

"I…have heard a complaint," said Domeric unsurely. "One of the knights from Riverrun claimed that you…..defiled his wife during our stay."

"The woman is a whore; she made eyes at me and half a dozen other men, if she tries to say she didn't like having a real man inside her then she's a damned liar." The way Ramsay spoke seemed as though he was explaining the weather.

Domeric frowned. "So you don't deny it."

"Of course not, she was merely another slut who got what was coming to her."

"_Ramsay_" Domeric seethed. "You cannot do this sort of thing, she was a married woman and you knocked three of her teeth out!"

His bastard brother's face darkened. "She was a filthy whore. She's every man's wife and she was lucky it was only teeth I took and not her skin. I could have made a fine cloak from the skin of her arsecheeks."

_Be patient with him_, he tried to remind himself. _He has lived a hard life and Father did little to help him._ "Ramsay I had to pay the man thirty gold dragons to keep him silent, what if he had gone to Lord Tully or worse Robb Stark? Your head would roll within an hour."

Ramsay's thick lips curled and the cords stood up in his neck. "You should have slit his throat, and then his silence would cost you nothing."

"Talk like that will get you killed," Domeric complained. "You are my kin and for that I owe you some protection but there is only so far I can go. You must cease this madness brother, or there'll be no stopping it."

His brother's pale eyes glittered. "You're right brother," the spittle glistened at the corner of his mouth. "It is folly to try and act how I please without any thought to the consequences. I swear on my honor as a Bolton that you shall never have to do such matters again."

The shining of Ramsay's eyes stayed with Domeric for the rest of the day and no matter how much he tried to banish it from his mind he couldn't help but remember all those times he had seen his father in the moments of his quiet fury and he knew that he would not sleep well tonight.


	44. The Skinner's Son

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

**A/N: As always thanks for the reviews, they keep me going.**

For a moment it seemed as if the king was going to throttle the Flint man. The young Wolf's blue eyes were twin storms of rage, his whole body seemed to be trembling with anger and beside him Grey Wind was baring his teeth. "Are you certain that it's Theon?" he asked.

"One of our men intercepted a raven coming from Winterfell, it was written by the turncloak himself to his Lord father," said the Flint man. "He's been styling himself as the Prince of Winterfell."

_The treasonous dog,_ thought Domeric. _He lived with the Starks for years, a brother to Robb and his siblings. These Greyjoys have no honor._ He could smell the salty sea air of Pyke again, and hear the sounds of dying Northmen as they stormed Botley.

"Balon and his get are nothing more than cowards who are too afraid to fight real men," The GreatJon declared. "We should have put them all to the sword years ago."

"We should storm the castle and rip it from the Turncloak's hands." said Rickard Karstark.

"You forget that he has my lady mother and the boys," growled Robb. "I will not risk any harm coming to them."

The Blackfish looked almost as enraged as his great-nephew. "We must needs stop him from getting back to the Iron Islands; else Balon gets three hostages to use against us."

Robb considered a map of the North. " Theon holds Winterfell with a skeleton crew, the castle is mighty but with a large enough force it could be retaken….Lord Karstark how many men can you muster?"

Karstark stroked his large beard thoughtfully. "My brother Arnolf may be able to gather about one hundred men, though it would take some time."

"Your Grace," Domeric edged forward. "Might I speak?"

The King in the North and the Trident flicked his blue eyes over to Domeric and gave a single nod. "Aye my lord what would you council."

"I do not doubt the bravery of Lord Karstark's men, but if you want to stop the Greyjoys from escaping with your mother and brothers then you need to strike at them soon. I have two hundred men at the Dreadfort that would be ready to leave at a moment's notice."

Robb gave him a long searching look as the gears of his mind began to slowly turn. He stared back down at the map of the North again and traced a path with his finger from Winterfell to the Dreadfort and then from Winterfell to the Stony Shore. "You call your men to arms Lord Bolton, though I want birds sent to Winterfell. Let it be known that any Iron Islander who wants to leave peacefully will be allowed to do so."

Domeric shifted uncomfortably. "My father used to say that a touch of mercy was a virtue Your Grace, but too much will only make you look weak in the eyes of your enemies."

"Any of the Iron Islanders with the exception of Theon Greyjoy," the King's voice was frosty. "He betrayed our cause and I'll take his head for it."

The GreatJon and a few of the other Northern lords were smiling to themselves at that, no doubt proud of their King's ferocity. Behind them Ramsay stirred from where he was standing and went to a knee before Robb. "Your Grace, I beg you of you to allow me to take a portion of my brother's forces north to aid in the assault, these Ironmen are treacherous and you'll need someone who can hunt them down should they try and escape."

_What in the name of the Gods is he doing?_ Domeric shot his brother a hard look, to which the Bastard of Bolton ignored before looking up at the king. "Please sire, I'm your man."

Robb Stark looked down at Ramsay with a stony expression. Domeric had seen the same look on lord Eddard during the few times he and Will had watched the man listen to the complaints of minor lords and pass judgment. After a long time he turned to Domeric. "Is your brother really as good a hunter as he says?"

"He is," said Domeric grudgingly. "But it would not be mere foxes that he would be hunting."

The Stark pinched the ridge of his nose in frustration at that before waving his hand. "Alright, Ramsay Snow on the first light of the morrow you will take a hundred men and ride north to meet with your brother's forces." Grey Wind and Robb both looked at Domeric's brother with cold fury. "I will have Black Walder Frey accompany you, I expect you to follow his instruction."

Ramsay smiled his fat worm like smile and bowed his head. "As your grace commands."

* * *

After the king had made his decision to send Ramsay north he had dismissed them all and kept to the company of his uncle. Domeric had hurried back to his tent almost immediately and began writing to the Castellan of the Dreadfort, Edrick Snow, and informed him of the king's request as well as the news that Ramsay would be making his way to meet them. He had also written a warning to the young man, about how he was to watch Ramsay and make sure that his savage tendencies were kept in line.

He wanted to write to Myranda as well, to ask about their child growing inside her and how she was spending her days now that he was gone. He thought about her most every day now, and even more at night. Part of him wanted nothing so much as to take Shadow and ride home. _I cannot. I am the lord of the Dreadfort and man of the North; I must help Robb Stark in gaining our freedom._

Domeric looked down at his finished letter and sealed it with the pink wax of his house; he would seek out the Maester to send it off after he had supped. Most of the other northern lords would be feasting together and loudly declaring how many lions they would slay or how well they expected their soldiers to perform in the coming battle at the Crag. Domeric had never been one for loud boasts, nor had he ever particularly enjoyed large crowds especially when many of the other noblemen only knew him as the son of the 'Leech Lord'. His father's reputation was a double edged sword, often working to help frighten others into submission or leaving him open to ridicule and scorn.

Lord Roose knew of what the others had said about, how little they respected him, though he never seemed to mind and in fact Domeric thought that perhaps he found it amusing how little Lords Umber and Glover knew about his secret activities. _His silences were much worse than your shouting could ever be,_ Domeric reflected.

In truth the Bolton name had been marked long before his father's time. Many of Domeric's forebears had a fearsome reputation that went all the way to the time of the Kings of Winter when House Bolton openly defied the Stark kings and wore their flayed skins as cloaks. _It ends with me,_ he decided. _I'll not have my child grow up with the same demons as me. _

He was stirred from his musings when Steelshanks Walton entered in his tent with an urgent look on his face. "M'lord, we have word; Torrhen Karstark and his men have returned from the Stormlands, do you want me to fetch them for you?"

"Yes I should like to speak with him right away," Domeric said.

And with that Steelshanks was gone just as quickly as he had entered. For a time Domeric sat at his desk quietly waiting before he decided to pour himself a cup of wine, as well as another for his guest. Soon enough the burly form of Walton returned and by his side stood young Torrhen Karstark, looking quite exhausted.

Domeric waved him. "Ser Torrhen, come, sit. I have wine."

"I….thank you lord Bolton," he replied hesitantly before taking a seat. "The journey has been tiring."

"Yes, I can only imagine how dangerous the Kingsroad has become now that things have fallen apart," Domeric took a sip of his wine. "This is precisely why I asked you here, you must tell me of your trip to the Stormlands."

The Karstark frowned. "I sent a raven to his grace, I explained everything to him about lord Renly and the how we got separated from Ser Willam."

A faint smile touched Domeric's lips. "Yes, well, all good stories deserve to be told more than once. I would very much like to hear it coming from your own mouth."

Karstark suddenly looked very uncomfortable and shifted in his seat under Domeric's cold gaze. _He fears me_, Domeric realized. _I can put that to good use._ Torrhen Karstark was young and foolish; no doubt his lord father had whispered to him the horror of House Bolton. After a time he finally worked up the courage to speak, though he kept his eyes just over Domeric's shoulder the whole time.

"It was as I wrote to the king," he said quietly. "We travelled with Ser Willam from the Riverlands down to Lord Renly's camp. Ser Willam kept us off the Kingsroad and led us through the Stormlands without any trouble; he said he had friends there." Domeric nodded of the rim of his cup before taking another long sip and gesturing for the knight to continue. "We stopped at an inn that didn't ask any questions. Ser Willam and the Innkeeper talked for a bit, something about how the Baratheons had taken up against one another….the next day we were off towards Storm's End. When we arrived the entire camp was prattling about in tourneys and jousts, as if it was all a big show like back in King's Landing. Ser Willam presented himself before Lord Renly and announced that he had come to make terms, after that they went off to negotiate while me and the rest of our men were kept outside amongst the garrisons.

"But soon enough lord Renly and his Reacherlords announced a grand feast and the lads and I were invited to dine with the all the Southrons. Renly told everyone that he and Ser Willam had reached an agreement and that after the battle with Stannis that he and his would join King Robb in crushing Tywin Lannister."

Domeric held up his hand to stop the man. "So you're saying negotiations with Lord Renly were successful? To the point of him announcing it to all of his bannermen?" That intrigued the Lord of the Dreadfort. He had heard that Will was in negotiation with the Stormlord but not that he had gone as far as winning the Baratheon king to his side. "Did any of the Reacherlords seem displeased?" he asked, keeping his milky eyes on the young knight.

"N-no my lord, in fact many of them seemed to rejoice," Torrhen hesitated. "But….Ser Willam was looking at the Tyrell woman quite strangely."

Bolton raised a brow. "Do you mean the Lady Margaery, Lord Renly's wife?"

Karstark shook his head violently. "No….the other one," he considered for a moment. "I believe she was Ser Garlan's wife, lady Fossoway."

_Oh Gods._ Domeric had been there all those years ago when Will had first tried to win the lady's affections, and the young Stark had confided in him that he had been writing to her ever since the fateful tourney at Lannisport. _But you also saw what she did to him at Storm's End,_ a dark voice whispered from the back of his mind. _She left him for Garlan Tyrell; did seeing her there stir old feelings? Revenge?_

"Ser Torrhen you must think very clearly before you speak next, did Ser Willam seem strange when you spoke to him after the feast?" he pressed his gaze on the man. "Even the slightest detail may be important."

"He seemed….somber."

Domeric frowned but gestured for the man to continue. "What happened after the feast?"

"Well we all went back to our tents and the next day Ser Willam told us to ride out ahead of him while he went to the parley between the Baratheon brothers. We waited for the rest of the day before trying to go back…" fear washed over the young man's face then and he reached out and grasped at Domeric's sleeve. "Please my lord, I tried to go back for him but the camp was in chaos and it was dark and…please, I tried to do my duty."

The lord of the Dreadfort coldly removed the man's hands and sneered at him in disgust. "You left your sworn lord and the King's own uncle to die in enemy territory. I'd say that warrants some form of punishment."

Torrhen Karstark shrieked in despair. "Please! I'll do anything, Karstarks are loyal men!"

An idea came over Domeric then, and the slightest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. "If you are as loyal as you say then you will do something of grave importance to the North. It would improve not only your own standing but the standing of your house as well, providing you do this one thing…"

"Anything!" he shouted anxiously. "Whatever task you and King Robb have in mind I swear by the Old Gods and the New that I'm your man."

"I want you to go south again, deep into the heart of the Reach…" he trailed off. "…and go to Ciderhall. If Willam Stark is still alive then you are to return him to his kin, and kill any Fossoway that tries to stop you."


	45. The Loyal Lord

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: As always, thank you to everyone who left a review.**

Ahooooooooooooo the warhorn cried, long and low. It was a sound to curdle blood. Domeric was used to the sound of horns now. The northerners had been banging and howling and blowing their instruments of terror as soon as they came in sight of the Crag, announcing their presence to any frightened lion that might be hiding inside.

The seat of House Westerling was far from formidable despite being old. Domeric had once journeyed to Castle Black with Will and spotted a few of the abandoned castles that were left along the Wall, the Crag was in better shape, but not by much. 

Smalljon Umber blew three short blasts in quick succession, the signal that would send the Northmen down upon the Westerling soldiers. Domeric drove his heels into his horse's flanks and raced forwards with his men into the fighting. The first man to come at Domeric Bolton was cut to size and trampled underneath Shadow's hooves as he and his men carved through the lion forces. He spotted one man waving his red and gold Lannister around as a faux spear and took the man's head from his shoulder with a single swipe of his sword. _This is what I was born to do,_ he realized as he raced onwards, toppling whatever enemy that came at him. _Astride a horse charging down my foes._

Vaguely in the corner of his eye he could see Grey Wind tearing out some poor bastard's throat as Robb and his vanguard came down on them. On the opposite side GreatJon Umber was counting the Lannister men as he killed them, calling out, "Six!", as one went down and "Seven! Ha!" a moment later.

Domeric suddenly heard a horrible screaming sound and only realized too late that it was coming from his own mount. Shadow reared up, kicked one of his attackers in a brief moment of triumph before some Westerling bastard drove a spear through the poor beast's heart and sending both master and stead to the ground.

He had the good sense to leap from his saddle before hitting the ground and quickly got his feet, sword in hand. A Lannister soldier with an axe loomed up before him, swinging with both hands as he howled in wordless fury. Domeric kept his shield up, trying as best he could to block the man's blows. His entire left arm hurt all the way up to his shoulder from the impact before he slipped in close to gut the man with his sword.

That earned Domeric a slight reprieve and he went over to attend Shadow who was moving about weakly as his great chest leaked a pool of blood that turned the mud crimson around him. Domeric said a single prayer for the beast before slitting its throat. He spun and found another opponent behind him, spear in hand. Bolton drove sword through the man's left eye before kicking his disbelieving corpse backwards.

One man swiped at Domeric's side causing him to yelp in pain, his mail turned it, though the impact still knocked the wind from his chest and filled his mouth with blood. When the man came at him again, Domeric struck the man hard across the face with his shield. Before the other man could rise again he smashed his shield down on his opponent's throat.

The Westerling forces continued to fight on despite their fewer numbers and Domeric felt a brief swell of respect for his enemies before pushing forwards. Two more men rushed him, and he killed them too, wondering how many lives he had ended already. _This is but a squabble, _he thought with a laugh. _I have fought and killed Ironmen._ He pushed his sword into a lion's chest through his boiled leather and flesh all the way to the man's ribcage before tearing his blade free. The man looked confused for a moment before collapsing in the mud.

Somewhere in the ebb and flow of battle Domeric had found himself standing amongst the battered ruins of the main gate of the Crag, surrounded by dead Westerlings. His shield was naught but splinters on his arm, and his armor was dinted and crushed around his ribs. His arm and shoulder ached , his mouth tasted of blood and his head felt as if Smalljon had blown his warhorn right into his face. The sky had turned a purplish haze above him. _How long have we been fighting?_

An angry man rushed at him then, clad in red and gold of Lannister and with a deadly look in his eye. Before Domeric could so much as raise his sword the man stopped dead in his tracks as an arrow pierced his throat, drowning the man in his own blood. Domeric turned to find Galbart Glover and twenty other Northmen rushing in behind him and taking the castle.

Lord Westerling's own solar was occupied by the king and despite the injuries he had taken when claiming the castle, the young man held himself well when Domeric, along with Lords Umber, Glover and Tallhart walked in. Lord Westerling's own daughter was tending to his wounds and kept her eyes downcast when the room filled up with surly Northmen. Robb greeted each of them in turn and gestured for them to sit.

Lord Umber claimed the seat to the king's right while Galbart Glover sat to his left, Tallhart sat beside him while Domeric sat beside Umber. The lady Jeyne finished wrapping up Robb's arm with bandages and bowed her head before excusing herself. Stark's eyes lingered on her form as she left the room. _The boy had best get his mind on the war and off Lady Westerling's backside,_ thought Domeric as the slightest of frowns tugged at his mouth.

"My lords," their king said, "what are our losses?"

The GreatJon gave a broad smile. "Me and mine lost half a dozen, maybe twice as many wounded. Little Westermen have never fought against real warriors before and what few they did kill were the older troops."

_You are not so young yourself Lord Umber,_ thought Domeric.

"I lost twenty men in the first rush, about as many wounded," said lord Tallhart with a glum expression.

Galbart Glover was looking as dutiful as ever when he responded. "We lost twelve good men getting the gate open as the enemy rained arrows down on them, five and twenty wounded."

All eyes fell on Domeric then who managed to keep his face and voice neutral as he spoke. "Seven men on horse, while five on foot were slain," he paused and flicked his eyes over towards Lord Umber. "Overall a dozen men."

"And your wounded?" asked the King.

"The same again," his pale eyes focused on Robb's own. "This castle cost us little, your grace."

Glover fumed at that. "My lord of Bolton, might I remind you that forty of our men gave up their lives in the taking of this castle, forty good men who will never return home to their wives and children," he pointed out with a certain amount of rancor. "They deserve some semblance of respect."

Domeric studied the old man's worn features and tired eyes. _What game are you playing Glover? Still so afraid of my father that you seek to challenge me at every turn? How clumsy he is trying to bait me. He has yet to realize that I am a Bolton and not another of these brutes._

While the Master of Deepwood Motte had spoken with a voice loud and full of outrage, Domeric answered in a calm, quiet voice. "Men die in war all the time my lord, am I to weep over every single one of them? Even the gentlest of hearts do not have tears enough for that."

Glover pushed back off the table, bristling, but the king spoke before he could lash back. "Peace my lords, I'll not have infighting amongst my ranks."

Lord Tallhart stirred. "What news do we have of Tywin Lannister and his host?"

"Lord Tywin is with his main force at Harrenhall," King Robb said. "But I expect that to change once he hears of our battle today. We've brought the fight to his homelands and taken castles and strongholds away from Lannister control, he'll soon turn his attention directly to us and from there meet us in battle to reclaim the west."

"You mean to fight the entire Lannister host in the field?" inquired Galbart Glover. "That will not be a battle easily won Your Grace."

The slightest of smiles was at the Stark's lips then. "I only mean to preoccupy him, keeping the majority of his strength against us while the Baratheon host attacks King's Landing."

GreatJon Umber gave a deep laugh that rumbled from the pit of his stomach and echoed across the solar. "Even those Golden haired shits can't fight two foes at once! We'll have the Lions by the throat!"

"Using our enemies to destroy each other, ingenious," said Lord Tallhart unctuously.

Galbart Glover still looked doubtful. "After Stannis takes King's Landing then he'd surely put every Lannister to the sword….lord Tywin might turn back and lay siege upon the city, but what would that mean for the North? Would we pursue the man and press on until we best him?"

"When his children and grandchildren are under threat he'll look for peace," King Robb said politely, "Should Tywin defeat Stannis then his forces will be too bloodied to take up arms against us, they'll be in no position to refuse our independence, and then we can all go home."

Domeric remembered when he had joined Will and Lord Eddard in the celebrations after the fall of Pyke, and the talks he had had with the King's men. He also remembered the cold fury on Stannis Baratheon's face when he talked with his brother and the Warden of the North. "Your Grace, what if Lord Stannis should prevail and kill all of the Lannisters? He'll have the entire South then."

"Oh," said Tallhart casually. "I expect that Lord Stannis will have had his share of war by then. He's not like to trouble us."

"My lord, clearly you know nothing about Stannis Baratheon. The man once sat through an entire year of siege during the Rebellion. He chose to eat rats and the leather of his boots rather than surrender the castle to Mace Tyrell. The man is relentless and he does not forget a slight. I can guarantee you that once he has consolidated his force he'll attack us next."

The Galbart Glover nodded in reluctant agreement. "Aye, stern Stannis is not one to negotiate with, he likely considers us all traitors."

GreatJon Umber slammed his large hand down on the table. "I say we do as King Robb has planned! After we see all those Lions dead in the ground we return home, let Stannis have his damned pointed chair, we'll be North and when Winter comes the man will have no way to get to us then."

Domeric was about argue when he saw the bandages on the King's arm beginning to soak through with blood and quickly stood from the table, lord Glover did likewise and went to the young man. "Your Grace, are you alright?"

The Stark boy winced a little but managed to put on a smile. "Aye my lord just fidgeted too much. I'm sure Lady Jeyne won't mind redressing my wound."

"His Grace needs time to rest," said Domeric to the other lords. "We shall leave you to your recover sire."

Robb nodded wearily and Lord Tallhart called the young woman back into the room. Once the young maiden was attending the king the lords made their farewells, Glover and Tallhart the first to leave, followed by the GreatJon and Domeric last. Just as he left he thought he saw the briefest of smiles on the Young Wolf's face as he looked up at the Westerling girl.

* * *

Domeric returned to his camp just as night had fallen; the few remaining embers of daylight cast queer shadows across the land and turned men into ghouls. The first thing he did when he entered his tent was shrug off the last of his chainmail, the weight being lifted from his bruised shoulder felt so good that he could almost cry.

He went about changing into his small clothes and all but collapsed into his cot. The feeling of stretching out felt heavenly on his aching back and neck and he made a note to himself that he would need to see to a Maester about something for his stiffness. After a while of staring at the roof of his tent, Domeric's thoughts turned to Torrhen Karstark and the five men he had sent with him on the journey to the Reach. He wasn't sure that he could trust the man to remain inconspicuous amongst the southerners, but he knew that the young knight was too scared to come back empty handed.

_Let him be afraid,_ thought Domeric moodily. _Let him stay awake all night fearing some Bolton nightmare would crawl out of the darkness and take his skin. As long as he brings back Will I don't care how he feels._

Domeric was shaken from his brooding by a cough and when he looked up he saw Steelshanks Walton standing at his door, trembling and as pale as snow. "My lord…we have received a raven from the North….from your half-brother."

The Lord of the Dreadfort immediately stood up, his heart beginning to beat in his chest. His hands shook as he took the letter from Walton's hands. The letter was sealed with a smear of hard pink wax. He cracked the seal and took the parchment over by the candle at his table and read.

_Brother. Winterfell is in flames. When we arrived Theon Greyjoy and the Ironborn scum had already set fire to the castle and murdered all inside. The Stark boys are dead. Lady Stark is dead. _

_We rode after the Ironborn, hunting them for three days with hounds and all the men we had. Asha Greyjoy came upon us near Torrhen's Square and caught our men in an ambush. Edrick Snow is dead, as are several men of the Dreadfort. Their bodies littered the ground when Ser Walder and I arrived._

_The hunt is not yet over and I shall make King Robb a fine cloak made from the skin of every Ironborn cunt I come across. _

_Ramsay Snow_

_Natural son of Lord Roose Bolton._


	46. The Second Son

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: thank you to everyone who left a review.**

"Make for the Reach and speak to _no one."_

The Lord of the Dreadfort had stood by and watched as Torrhen haphazardly packed his saddlebag, his queer colorless eyes watching on with cold indifference. Cold was the perfect word to describe the young Bolton. He seemed very ordinary to Torrhen, not remarkably handsome but not quite plain either. All that stood out on the young man's face was his eyes.

_Eyes made of ice,_ thought Torrhen with a shiver.

Lord Domeric had sent five men to accompany him south, "all loyal to the Dreadfort," he had whispered, malice shining behind his still eyes. Torrhen was no fool, he had stories coming from around the Dreadfort for years and his Maester had taught him all about the history of House Bolton and their practices. While his travelling companions had been mostly been as cold as their master, there was one man who spoke with Torrhen and even laughed on occasion, a man baring arms brazened with a red castle on a white field._ A Redfort? What's a man of the Vale doing in service to Bolton? _

They rode south from Riverrun and did their best to avoid the Kingsroad. For Torrhen the travel was not so bad, he had been up and down these ways twice before and still remembered some of the basic paths that Ser Willam had shown him. They rode most hours of the day and slept all the night. What Torrhen disliked most was the silences. His five companions hardly made any small talk, though the man of the Vale did try once or twice only to be met by a wall of silence.

"Would that I could have come down these parts during the peacetime," said the Vale man as they rode through the Stormlands, the day damp and grey as drizzle fell on them. "The tourneys would have been a thing to see….have any of you fine fellows competed in a tourney?"

The Dreadfort men all gave the man hard looks but Torrhen couldn't help but speak. "They rarely have tourneys above the Neck, but I've always wanted to see one."

A smile passed over to Redfort man's face then. "At last, someone not made of stone!" He moved his horse over beside Torrhen and extended a hand. "Ser Creighton Redfort,"

Torrhen shook it. "Ser Torrhen Karstark. Well met."

Ser Creighton grinned. "Since they're not going to say anything I suppose I should be the one to make all the introductions," he pointed to the man on the other side of Torrhen with crooked teeth and a face covered in freckles. "That is Kedry of the Mill, our marksmen and chief tracker." Next he gestured to the short round faced man with the lazy eye riding in front of them. "That fellow is Jolly Jack and never will you meet anyone quite as glum or as handy with an axe." He flicked his fingers to the man with the long braided beard. "That shaggy looking rogue ahead is Petyr or Pretty Pete as we call him, ugly as mule but smarter than ten men."

Torrhen's eyes flicked over to the man leading the party. He was at least six-and-a-half-feet tall, broad of shoulder, huge of belly, with legs like tree trunks, hands the size hams and nothing but thick muscle in place of a neck. His sandy blond hair had been cut close cropped and there was a single jagged scar running from the corner of his mouth all the way up to his right ear. "What about him?" he asked in a hushed tone. "Who is that?"

Redfort's face darkened a little at that. "That is our leader, Arthor Snow. Rumor has it that he's a bastard from the Last Hearth, though I'll be damned if I can figure out he came to be in service of Domeric. All I know is that he's a dangerous and you'd best not get in his way."

After that the travels returned to near silence, and Torrhen made sure to keep as far away from Arthor Snow as possible. The drizzle that had nagged at them soon turned into a soft steady rain by midday, and continued well past nightfall. The next day the companions never saw the sun at all, but rode beneath leaden skies with their hoods pulled up to keep the water from their eyes. The constant wetness had left the roads little more than mud and had made travelling through the open fields bothersome.

Some two days later they came upon the same inn Torrhen had stayed with Ser Willam on his journey to Storm's End. It seemed to be holding up as well as it did the last time he came through, with smoke billowing from its chimney and the sounds of life and laughter coming from inside. None of the men had worn any family colors or emblems aside from Ser Creighton , who did all the talking for them, saying they were weary travelers from the Vale looking for a place to sleep. Torrhen kept his hood low and tried not to attract the Innkeeper's attention.

There was about six other patrons currently drinking away but Arthor forbade any of them from engaging them in anyway. The hearth was nice and warm, but many of the others had already taken the tables closest so Torrhen and the others were forced to sit on the opposite end. A pretty woman with red hair and brown eyes came out and served them all cups of ale. She smiled at Torrhen briefly before returning back to the Innkeeper.

"Well," said Ser Creighton with a laugh. "I think she's in love with you."

Torrhen frowned at that. Girls made him anxious, especially the pretty ones. Not quite as handsome as Eddard or as fierce as Harrion, Torrhen never had the charm or courage to woe women like his brothers. _You have a nice face,_ his sister Alys had once told him,_ but you should smile more._

That was not to say he did not know the company of women. When he was a boy Torrhen had been smitten with Jorja Lake, the daughter of the lord of Long Lake. He had spent many days around her when he was younger, though he never said a word about his feelings. His carried his dreams for years until the day she married some White Harbor knight. For the longest time he would sink into a sullen mood whenever she was mentioned but soon learned to put those feelings to bed.

After Jorja came Holly, long legged and flat chested ,but with a smile that could cut through men like Valyrian Steel. She was the daughter of the Master-at-arms of the Karhold and had once snuck out of a feast with a skin of wine and Torrhen's hand firmly clasped inside her own. They went over to the stables and begun kissing, a first for Torrhen, and slowly went about removing each other's clothes. But somewhere between the kissing and mouthfuls of wine Holly had passed out and Torrhen decided to take her back inside. Afterwards they had done their best to avoid each other and there had been no more kisses between them.

_Edd laughed when I told him that, _he thought sadly.

He missed his little brother and cursed the Kingslayer every day for taking him away. It had been like a dream, everything was so slow and no matter how fast Torrhen forced himself to go he could never get to his brother in time before the Lannister cut him down. His elder brother Harrion sat in chains in some Lannister prison, probably half-starved and afraid. Never in his life had Torrhen felt so helpless at it all.

Ser Creighton gave him a sharp poke to the sides, waking him from his reverie. "What's got you so glum?" he asked not unkindly. "You've hardly touched your ale."

"I was just….just thinking of family," Torrhen said. "I haven't seen them in so long."

Redfort gave a sympathetic smile. "Aye, war is a bloody horrid thing. Though it must be done no? Else your family would be forced to live under the yolk of King Joffrey and his Lannisters." He took a mouthful of ale. "It's better to die free than live as a dog to some jumped up little shit."

"What made you want to join the Northern cause?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "The Vale has no dog in this fight."

Creighton laughed. "There are still men of honor in the Vale. Why even Bronze Yohn Royce wanted to declare for Robb Stark and lead a force south. But of course Lady Arryn, mad as she is, wouldn't have it. I and a handful of my brother's men came here on request of Domeric."

"Why would the Lord of the Dreadfort make you leave the safety of the Vale?" Torrhen asked.

The knight looked far off for a moment, as if caught in the past. "Dom was fostered at my household when he was young," he said with the slightest of smiles crossing his face. "I grew up with him like a brother, and when your brother asks for help you don't say no."

Torrhen wasn't sure what to make of that. On the one hand Ser Creighton seemed sociable enough, yet if he was friends with Lord Bolton then surely there was more to him than would seem. _I'd best watch him,_ thought Torrhen before taking a mouthful of ale.

One of the other patrons got himself thoroughly drunk and fell from his chair, causing Torrhen and his compatriots to all reach for the daggers at their belts. Upon seeing the cause of the disruption the men sat back down uneasily. Not long after the same barmaid came out with bowls of onion soup for them all, which they all dug into without hesitation. Torrhen wondered when he would get the chance to have another warm meal again and savored the warmth.

Another howl of laughter erupted from the drunken patrons and they began singing some bawdy song that Torrhen was not familiar with. After the companions had finished their soup Ser Creighton began chatting away with the barmaid, flirting slightly and speaking to her in hushed tones while the rest of them quietly nursed their ale. From across the room one of the drunkards shouted to them.

"C'mere love," called out the man who had fallen from his chair. "I'm in need of some _service! _I haven't had a decent fuck since Highgarden!_"_ The drunken proposition was met with hooting and laughs from the man's friends.

The Barmaid clearly seemed uncomfortable yet went over with her jug of ale and anxiously offered to refill their drinks. Torrhen judged by the way their hands were feeling up the woman's skirt that ale was the last thing on their mind. _What would Harry do? _He considered that while watching the scene play out. Ser Creighton didn't even give it a second thought.

"My good men," he announced happily as he strode over to their table. "I believe the lady doesn't want what you're selling."

The drunk looked up at him with drooped, glassy eyes and frowned. "Fuck off."

A smile slithered up to the knight's face. "Perhaps you would like to step outside?"

"Listen pretty boy I'm not going to say it again; Fuck. Off. "

Creighton opened his mouth to respond but was swiftly cut off by a large hand settling on his shoulder. Arthor Snow looked down at the Vale man with a withering glance and gestured for him to return to his seat, which he did without question. The drunk started to laugh but was quickly silenced by a fist in the throat from Arthor. Several of his friends rose to defend him but after seeing the size of the man before them quickly settled for carrying their wheezing friend off into a back room.

Torrhen stared at the big man incredulously as he slowly returned to the table. Even in North he hadn't seen such casual violence. _Where does Bolton find these people?_

Arthor sat down by the table and looked at them all with a long scrutinizing expression. He tore off a small piece of bread from the center of the table, chewing thoughtfully. Soon enough another bowl of onion soup was brought to him by the woman and he nodded in approval, his face stoic and still. After a time he finally spoke, his voice was like rolling thunder. "I know how we're getting into Cider Hall."

"And how are we going to do that?" asked Kedry, his freckled face scrunched up in confusion.

"It's simple," he paused to sip from his cup of ale that the barmaid had refilled for him. "We're going to approach the main gates and the Fossoways are going to let us walk right in."


	47. Edrick

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated. **

Edrick's legs were stiff and sore and his lungs were burning in his chest but he had to _run_. He wasn't sure how many miles he had covered or how close he was to the Dreadfort but he knew that he dare not stop.

Lady Catelyn wasn't fairing much better at his side. Her skirts had been torn and ripped to shreds after their horse had died and they were forced to run through the thick and spikey woods. For her part the Lady of Winterfell did not once complain and Edrick was grateful. _Most other women would cry and be hysterical in this situation,_ he thought. _Lady Stark has strength, perhaps strength enough for the both of us._

He had taken his host from the Dreadfort and made for Winterfell on King Robb's orders. Heavy rains cost them three days of travel so Edrick thought it would be prudent if he divided his forces and sent one half to guard the Stony Shore in case the Ironmen had already fled the castle while the remainder marched onwards to the ancestral seat of House Stark. That had been a mistake.

While they laid siege to Winterfell, Ramsay Snow and Black Walder Frey arrived with their men to bolster the ranks and to deliver the terms that King Robb had offered them. True to their nature the Ironmen betrayed Theon Turncloak and surrendered the castle. It was then that all hell broke loose. Attacking from the rear and catching Edrick's men unawares, their allies quickly set upon them and butchered to the last. Edrick himself had been inside the castle walls attending to Lady Stark when the attack began and could do little except watch his men get slaughtered.

By some miraculous chance the Ironmen had left their climbing hooks and rope inside the castle and Edrick quickly went to work with setting it up for his and Lady Stark's escape. It had taken some convincing but he had managed to get the lady to climb down first while he stayed and made sure no one saw them before joining her. Once down they had argued about what to do next. "We must needs head to Moat Cailin," Lady Catelyn had urged, but Edrick knew better than to try and head all the way South on foot. "The Dreadfort is closer; it would only take us a few days by horse."

And so they had snuck back around into Edrick's tent while the Freys and turncloak men had their way with the ancient castle. They should have simply taken a horse and rode as hard and fast northeast as they could, but Edrick needed to let the Dreadfort know what was coming. He had to let Lady Myranda know that Lord Domeric's brother had betrayed them, and sent off a raven before he left and prayed that it wasn't shot down.

They only had the one horse and rode the beast to near exhaustion before stopping in the darkling woods, believing that they had escaped the Bastard of Bolton. _What fools we were,_ he reflected with a curse. The first thing they heard was the dogs. Ramsay's girls he heard them called and they were as savage as their master, chasing down and spooking Edrick and Lady Stark's horse so much that the beast tumbled and broke its leg. Edrick had to slit its throat immediately to silence its screams.

For two nights they had continued on foot, hardly ever stopping but for a moment or two to catch their breaths before running again. As the sun came up on the third day they heard the baying of the dogs and the distant sound of a horn coming faintly through the trees.

"Go on ahead my Lady," he urged desperately. "I will draw their attention while you keep moving. When you get to the Dreadfort tell them what happened, Lady Myranda should still have a few of her Vale knights ready to serve."

"Oh…I think that won't be necessary dear Edrick," cut in a sickening voice. " I'll happily escort Lady Stark back myself."

Before he could turn to face the man he was struck with something hard across the back of his head and soon everything left him.

He was awoken by a splash of water so cold that it knocked the wind from his chest. His hands were chained above him and his arms were burning from the strain. It took him a moment for his vision to clear and for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the chamber he was in. A single torch hung at the door, burning dimly enough for Edrick to just make out the likeness of Ramsay Snow.

"Sorry, but we can't have you sleeping all day," he said in a cheerful voice. "My mother used to say that it is a mark of absolute laziness if a man oversleeps."

The young knight struggled against his restraints. "Where are we? What have you done to Lady Stark?"

That seemed to amuse the Bastard of Bolton to no end and he began giggling as though Edrick had just told him a bawdy joke. "_Lady Stark_ is warming my bed, and….just between you and me; I can see why Ned Stark sired five whelps on her. That woman is delicious, and fierce. I will give her that, she knows how to put up a good fight," Ramsay's cold pale eyes fell on Edrick with an expression of giddiness and excitement. "Maybe I'll let you have a turn with her. Would you like that, to fuck the King in the North's mother?"

"Go to hell bastard."

All mirth left Ramsay's face then and his ugly features morphed into a twisted mask of rage. He walked forwards and struck Edrick across the nose. Already the young knight could feel blooding beginning to rush down over his mouth and chin. He spat a wad of blood and turned back to his gaoler. Ramsay shot him a glare and walked over to a table that was sitting in the corner of Edrick's vision.

Without turning back the Bastard called out, "You know, I was wondering what sort of a man you would be, the bastard my brother took on as a squire. I have to say I'm disappointed," he began fiddling with something on the table, the clanging metallic sound was scrapping against the iron table. "I had thought you would have looked more like a Glover, your father was a Glover wasn't he?" without waiting for Edrick's response he continued on. "I wonder what it was that made Lord Glover dishonor some poor maiden, she must have been quite a whore to get his attention."

Edrick gave a bitter laugh of his own. "You would know all about that wouldn't you? I've heard the story of the beautiful maid that was your mother. You're as much as bastard as I, at least I'm not a child born of _rape_."

Ramsay spun around at that, the knife in his hand glowing red and in three quick paces he was on Edrick, forcing the flat of the blade into the palm of the young knight's hand. White hot searing pain shot through his entire arm then and he couldn't help scream and scream until he had no more voice to scream with. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air.

The Bastard of Bolton was smiling once again, his fat worm lips glistened with saliva. He clasped Edrick by the back of the head and pulled his face close. "Did you know that across the sea it's common practice to cut the tongues from unruly slaves?" he held up his knife again, the still warm blade inches away from Edrick's eye. "If the blade is hot the wound does not bleed so much, I wonder if this knife is warm enough?"

_What is this monster?_ His breathing was unsteady and for the longest time he remained as still as stone before Ramsay finally let him go and put his knife back down on the table. A cheeky grin came over his fat face again. "Tell me, what did you write to my brother's wife?"

"N-nothing," he sputtered. "I did not have time…my men were gone…I didn't have any ravens."

Ramsay nodded and smiled as he listened to Edrick speak and for a moment the young knight thought that he had convinced him but then Ramsay picked up another knife. "That's a lie," he said as he casually examined the small blade. "Your lady was not here when we arrived, nor were any of her Vale knights. What did you tell her?"

Edrick took a shaky breath and said nothing.

"Very well," Ramsay slowly walked over to Edrick's side, to his burnt hand and clasped it tightly. Without saying a word he began cutting into the skin of his thumb, tracing around the flesh on the underside of the digit. With a gleeful expression he brought the blade downwards and peeled off the layer of skin from the red flesh underneath. Edrick bit down so hard that he felt his teeth crack and his vision blurred with tears and agony.

His sobs continued on for some time after that and his entire left hand felt like it was on fire and his thoughts became a maelstrom of agony and silent pleas. Ramsay gave him a casual slap across the face to get his attention. "You're knight Ser, and a knight should never lie," he chastised while waving his flaying knife around. "I am a godly man so I would feel remiss if I didn't help you hold onto your vow. Secrets and lies fester inside the body like pus, and any good healer will bleed them out."

"Please….." Edrick's voice was little more than hoarse whisper.

"Please what?" he asked curiously. "Please…._what?"_

"Make it stop…." His hand was throbbing so badly, he could hardly see straight. All thoughts of loyalty and honor were forgotten. He just needed a release from the pain.

Ramsay's pale eyes gleamed with satisfaction then. "I can make it stop," he whispered, as softly as a lover. "I can make all of the pain go away; you just have to tell me what you told Myranda in that raven. Where did she go?"

_I can't take this,_ he thought miserably._ I did my duty to Lord Domeric; I got Lady Myranda away from Ramsay._ They were sweet whispers, the pain trying to twist his mind and heart. _He'll hurt me again if I don't tell him…_Somewhere in the feverish state of Edrick's mind a memory came back to him, one from his youth during the Greyjoy Rebellion when he had squired for Willam Stark, his voice as clear as if he was whispering in Edrick's ear. _Fear is not a bad thing; it is only when we are afraid that we can be truly courageous…_

"L-Lord Ramsay," he croaked, watching as the bastard approached him curiously. Once the man was close enough Edrick spat a wad of blood in his eye, laughing like a madman as his captor fumed and cursed. Even when he felt Ramsay's fists smash his nose and crack his cheek he still laughed. _You'll hear nothing from me…._

"Even if you have given that slut time to escape, there's nowhere for her to run," Growled Ramsay. "I enjoy a good hunt and when I find her I'll cut that screaming creature from her womb and make her eat it. Just you watch bastard."

He returned to his table again, a picked out something that Edrick couldn't quite see and when he turned back to face his prisoner he kept the instrument hidden behind his back, taking slow, measured steps. "Isn't it funny? You had one raven and instead of sending it south to King Robb you tried to play the hero and rescue the defenseless woman, and now Robb Stark's castle is burnt, his brothers are….gone, and his mother is enjoying the hospitality of the Dreadfort. What a _hero_ you are."

A sudden idea seemed to strike Ramsay then and he laughed, long and loud. "You're a man in service to House Bolton, and yet you ran away from your liege lord." The bastard smiled. "You must be punished so that you never run away from your duties again."

Torchlight ran orange along the edge of the cleaver as it came swinging down, almost too fast to see. Edrick screamed.


	48. The Spare

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**A/N: As always, big thank you to everyone who left a review. they keep me going!**

_It should not have taken this long,_ Torrhen told himself as he paced around his room inside the inn. Had Arthor been killed? Could the Tyrell men have overpowered him and Kedry? _We all should have gone. _It is not so easy to fight off six men as it is two.

The other four members were sitting around in the small room that the Innkeeper had provided for the lot of them, bored looks on their faces. Pretty Pete was snoozing in the corner of the room, occasionally muttering to himself incoherently while Jolly Jack sat tensely by the door, sharpening his axe. Ser Creighton sat by the windowsill playing with some spinning toy that he had carved from a piece of wood.

The day was grey and wet, as all the days had been since they entered the Stormlands. A ferocious wind carrying rain battered down upon the small inn, but the weather had been the last and least of Torrhen's concerns. Arthor Snow, the leader of their small band had spotted one of the drunken men hiding a Golden Rose of Highgarden on the armor that was halfheartedly hid underneath a blanket and decided that he was going to kill the men and take their armor and clothing, and enter Cider Hall under the guise of Tyrell knights looking for shelter. Yet it had been over an hour since the big man had taken Kedry and snuck into the other rooms and the waiting was getting on Torrhen's nerves.

"Where in the seven hells is Arthor?" Torrhen complained to Ser Creighton. "How long should it take to kill six men already half dead from drink?"

He shrugged. "It will take as long as it takes, hiding their bodies and moving the armor is no mean feat."

"Then why did he take only Kedry? Six men disposing of six bodies is not so difficult." Torrhen's fear of being caught was growing with each passing minute. _If we are discovered here, if our progress stayed…_he did not want to think of what Domeric Bolton would do, let alone the Baratheons or Tyrells.

"Arthor and Kedry have worked together many times on such black tasks before," Creighton reminded him. "They work best unobstructed by novices like us."

Torrhen grumbled at that but said nothing. He had slept little last night and when he did it was always in brief spells without dreams before some burning feeling in the back of his neck would wake him. The Karstark could seldom let his guard down anymore it seemed.

Suddenly they heard footsteps approaching, the heavy thud of boots against the old floorboards announcing a new presence in the hallway. In a blink all the men were up on their feet, weapons in hand and staring anxiously at the door. The heavy boots settled before the door and slowly pushed it open. "_Creighton," _a familiar voice whispered through the door. "It's Arthor."

So it was. The big man was looking annoyed and bedraggled as he lumbered into the room, Kedry scurrying in after him, a purple bruise coloring the bald man's cheek. Under his arm was a thick bundle which he dropped on the floor unceremoniously.

"We won't have long," Arthor told them. "The corpses are hidden for now but who knows when that Innkeeper or his woman will come looking for coin. The armor is wrapped up in that blanket; we got only the parts with the Tyrell sigil. For the love of the gods keep it concealed until we are far from this place and its prying eyes."

None of them dared say a word of protest as they slipped on the foul smelling armor plating. Torrhen's chestplate was a tad tight, and the edges tug into his ribs, but it had a brightly painted golden rose on the center so he bore the discomfort. By the end they all looked like a bunch of piss poor knights, adorned in mismatched armor and dull cloaks that looked as though they had seen too much bad weather. _Mayhaps we can say that we're stragglers from the remnants of Renly's host_, he tried to tell himself.

Arthor went down and paid the Innkeep for the room while the others all wrapped themselves up in their cloaks and shuffled out of the old building without attracting any attention. The rains had ceased but the winds were still quite heavy and coupled with the cold steel pressing against their bodies, it made for miserable travel.

The days remained grey and overcast for the remainder of their travels through the Stormlands, and it was not until they had begun to head south into the lands of the Reach that the sun came out. Torrhen had never been this far south of the Neck before and was amazed by how green everything looked as they rode through fields and pastures. _It's like stepping into another world,_ he reflected. _I wonder if it ever snows here, or if the lands always stay this beautiful._

As they made camp that night Arthor went over the plans with them once more. "Once we get to Cider Hall we're to say that we were members of dead Renly's army, cut off from the rest when the Stormlords went over to Stannis. We're men of the Reach; you lot better drill that thought into your heads by the time we get there….else we'll all be hanging from some tree."

"What makes you so certain that the Fossoways will accept us?" asked Kedry.

The big man gave his accomplice a dull look. "Stannis has taken the Stormlands and most of the Reach, only those with direct blood connections with the Tyrells remain loyal. Most likely the Tyrells are desperate, and that will be their undoing. House Fossoway of Cider Hall is much too unimportant to keep much military strength to itself when its liege lord is in need. It'll only be a matter of playing the part long enough for them to let us in the gates." The jagged scar running across the man's cheek twisted into a grimace. "Once we're inside, it's just a matter of getting into the dungeons and freeing Ser Willam."

"Getting into a dungeon is no easy feat," said Creighton as he stoked the campfire, sending little sparks everywhere. "None of us have ever been to Cider Hall, nor do we know of any secret passages from which to spirit away our caged wolf."

"That is a problem," Arthor admitted. "But if worse comes to worst…..well then I suppose we'll have to climb down the walls. We have the rope and hooks if need be." The big man must have seen their looks of skepticism and frowned at them. "It's not the best of plans I'll grant you, but it's all we've got. Surely I don't need to remind you men of what's at stake here? This is Ned's brother."

Jolly Jack's usually grim expression twisted into a mask of righteousness at that and he hit the ground with the butt of his axe. "Aye, we do this for Ned's brother."

"Most highborns wouldn't have given us a second thought but Lord Eddard always did right by me and mine. We'll save the Pup, and prune any rose who tries to stop us!" agreed Kedry with a shout.

After they had finished their supper and fallen asleep by the campfire Torrhen sat awake, his companions' words echoing through his head. The Whispering wood had been brutal, and the screams of dying men continued to haunt him day and night, but most of the time it was the sound of his brother choking on his own blood that kept him awake. The Kingslayer had opened Edd's throat and left him to drown as the air left his body and had turned his sights on Torrhen. _His green eyes, gods they were like wildfire and he moved as quickly as the wind with that damned sword…_ it was all Torrhen could do to protect himself against the murderous assault. Just as he thought death was on him Ser Willam had appeared out of nowhere and tackled the Lannister into the mud. The Stark fought like a wildling as he wrestled with the Kingslayer, ignoring all the injuries that Ser Jamie had inflicted and continued on. _I would have died if not for him,_ he reflected. Whatever fear Torrhen felt towards Lord Bolton seemed to fade in comparison to the loyalty he felt for Ser Willam. _I failed my brother, but I will not fail the Wolf Knight. _

"Good to see I'm not the only one not asleep." came a voice that broke Torrhen from his reverie.

He looked over to see Pretty Pete stoking the glowing coals, a slight smile on his bearded face. Torrhen wondered if the long brown hair would catch fire with the way the man had his head so close to the smoldering wood. "So what's a son of Rickard Karstark doing with this collection of murderers and rogues?" he asked before setting down the poker.

"I owe a debt to Ser Willam," he replied with a shrug.

Pete stroked his beard thoughtfully at that. "That's an honorable thing my boy, but are you sure you're willing to risk your own life for his sake? What we face is the high likelihood of imprisonment, maybe even torture and death."

_He's trying to test me_, Torrhen realized. "All men must die, better in battle than of ailment."

A soft chuckle erupted from behind the man's beard and a gleam of amusement crossed his homely face. "A sword through the chest or lying in a nice warm bed, some would choose the latter any day. But not many of you young fellows, tell me lad, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Pete's bushy eyebrows rose. "_Eighteen?_ Are you married boy? Any heirs to follow you?"

Torrhen felt the corners of his mouth tug downwards. "No, I'm unwed. But I'm only a second son; my brother Harrion will continue the family line after my father. I'm just a spare."

Pete sighed and there was a genuine sadness in his mild grey eyes. He pulled something from his robes and threw them over to Torrhen. It was a Maesters chain, or rather, a part of one. "My father was a landed knight in service to Lord Arryn, and I was his third born son. Since I was small I had an aptitude for books and by the time I was eight I had already leafed through my entire family library. I could work numbers and sums better than most adults around me. My father….he could hardly sign his name, but he knew where my talents lay and sent me off to Oldtown on my twelfth name day." A faint smile spread across his bearded face. "The things I learnt amongst all those wise men…they were the happiest days of my life. But when I was fifteen I received a raven from my father, both my brothers had died from the pox and I was his sole heir. So I packed up my things and returned home, abandoning my studies and all my dreams too." He pointed to the small chain. "I had earned five links when I left and I keep that wretched thing around as a reminder of what I could have had. Do not think that just because you are second born that your life is forfeit."

* * *

They followed the Roseroad all the way along the Mander, trying their best to avoid populated areas or attract the attention of any passerby's. As they trotted alongside the old river Pete kept them entertained by reciting the history of House Fossoway.

"Originally there was only one Fossoway branch," he had said thoughtfully. "They were the red apples of Cider Hall. But that changed almost a hundred years ago when the Laughing Storm knighted Raymun Fossoway , who later went on to serve House Targaryen loyally against the Blackfyres. When King Aegon came into his throne he granted the man lands of his own for his years of service, thus starting the Fossoways of New Barrel, who are known to you and me as the green apples."

"I heard that Ser Raymun and his red cousin were known to feud, is that enmity still with the Fossoways?" asked Torrhen curiously.

"The apples have no love for each other, or little enough that makes no difference."

Kedry snorted. "You read all this did you?"

"Aye, I've always found that sometimes looking back can help us look forwards," replied the bearded man with a thoughtful stroke of his whiskers. After that he was silent for a time, his hairy face turned into a mask of deep concentration.

They traveled till dusk. The fat purple sun slowly made its descent to the west and darkness soon came upon them. The air was damp and the wind blew from the east, moist as a kiss. The castle of Cider Hall was visible in the distance, its comely outline still visible in the gloom. The companions kept their horses to a walk as they began contemplating their next action.

"Remove your cloaks," commanded Arthor. "When we ride up we want to be wearing these golden roses like a badge of honor." They made sure to do so.

Finally, when the sky was well and truly devoid of light, they came across a mighty curtain wall. Jutting behind it sat a large rounded keep made with thick red blocks of stone from the Dornish marches. On both sides of the keep sat two large towers thrusting into the sky as straight as arrows. The wind, wet as it was, blew at the banners that littered the impressive castle, a red apple on a golden field, half illuminated by the moonlight.

They were being watched. Torrhen could feel the eyes. When the Karstark looked up he caught sight of a few torch lights bobbing about from behind the battlements, no doubt more than a few of them with arrows trained on the companions.

"_No closer!"_ a voice rang out. "What do you want?"

"Aid." Arthor rode forwards a tad, his arms held up in peace. "We are knights in service to Lord Tyrell, we were cut off when the Stormlords turned their cloak…respectfully, we ask to rest here for a night before making our way back to Highgarden."

There was silence for a moment and then, "You best keep moving."

Ser Creighton was about to argue but Arthor gave him a single, stern look and that stayed the Vale knight's response. Looking back to the battlements, the big man continued speaking. "Please, I beg of you, it is a long way to Highgarden and only a single night's rest would do us, we are low on supplies-"

"-We don't take in strays, no matter who they're in service to."

Suddenly Pete called out, his croaky voice carrying in the night air. "If you would turn us away, then we would gladly go someplace else, mayhaps when we return to Highgarden we will tell them of the hospitality of _New Barrel_."

There was no reply. Inside the walls the Fossoways were likely discussing whether to allow the men in or to feather them with arrows for insulting their pride. _If the Gods are good then mayhaps their envy of the green apples will be the thing that saves us,_ he prayed desperately.

"Alright," came a voice. "You may enter."

The gatehouse doors slowly moved open and the companions eagerly entered. As they rode past they received various looks from the knights standing guard, some cursed under their breath, others spat in distaste. Some gave formal nods and murmured greetings. Eventually they were met by three tall knights, adorned in heavy plate armor and a man dressed in light silk, red and gold. _Lannister colors,_ thought Torrhen.

The man was of slender build, with a pale face that was deeply lined. His beard was almost entirely grey save for a few red patches about his chin. Torrhen had barely met the man yet already he thought him to be someone who slept uneasily.

"Sers," he said in a tired voice. "I am lord of the Cider Hall, Jon Fossoway. It makes my heart swell to see loyal men still remain after the treachery of Stannis."

Arthor bowed low. "We thank you for your hospitality my lord, these are trying days."

Fossoway gave a weary nod. "Aye, mine own brother and his sons have turned cloak. It is sad indeed to see kin turn against each other….but still, it is men like you who provide us with hope; loyal men." the faintest of smiles touched the old man's lips. "Come, we have warm food and wine enough for you and yours."

And so they feasted. The food was nothing special compared to meals Torrhen had experienced at the Karhold, but after days of eating only dry fish and black bread he was grateful. At some point between servings Arthor leant over and quietly told the young knight to sneak out while he kept Lord Fossoway busy with tales of the war.

Slowly Torrhen rose to his feet, declaring with a laugh that he needed to piss and made his way to the doors. The Karstark made his way deeper into the less crowed parts of the castle. A few of the guards occasionally gave him an odd look or two but none said anything and he continued to roam. He found himself walking down a hall that was scarcely lit and knew that he was approaching the dungeons. _Ser Willam is down here,_ he thought, _and I will save him._

Lord Domeric had told him little and less about where exactly the Fossoways would be hiding the lost wolf, but something told Torrhen that they would not be keeping him in a warm chamber. _Most like they have him in chains down here, food for rats._

His breaths turned heavier as he continued into the darkness, his eyes desperately raking across the cells, mindful of keeping quiet lest he wake the guards. The sword at his hip seemed to know it's masters anxiety and Torrhen was filled with an almost overwhelming urge to unsheathe it and kill every man that stood in his way to Will Stark.

After what felt like hours he finally came upon the single cell that he had yet to search. The Karstark took a breath and went to the bars, peering inside. It was dark in the small cell, and the furthest away from the torches. Yet in dim light he could make out a single figure, laying sprawled against the back wall.

"Ser," he whispered. "Ser Willam."

There was no reply, except for the distant screech of a rat.

The young knight tried again. "It's….it's Torrhen Karstark. I've come to _rescue _you."

When the figure still did not move Torrhen walked back up the other side of the dungeon and snatched a torch from the wall and returned to the cell. The darkness seemed to jump back in terror at the flames and the little space was illuminated, revealing the still. Looking back at Torrhen was the grinning skull of a man long since dead.


	49. The Night is Dark

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**A/N: Thank you everyone who left a review**

His insides burned. The taste of charcoal lined his throat and mouth, so heavy that even breathing became an agonizing effort. His skin itched and chaffed, as if it had grown too small for his bones and every time he made a movement his joints would click loudly. The dark brown beard that he often had trimmed short now grew wildly and without restraint, like weeds in a garden after a long rain.

The small cot that had now become his domain squeaked under him as he shifted his weight. Near complete darkness sat around him, with only a single dim torch burning across from him providing any relief. Time did not seem to move in his new realm. The darkness was constant, yet for some reason the flickering flame never went out either. _Time has no meaning here,_ he thought, _for what reason would the dead have need of time?_ Time was a precious thing that only those who yet lived still had access to.

He knew he ought to try and make some apology, some attempt at reconciliation with his Gods, but he was so _tired._ It was _his_ own personal hell after all, and he would rail against it when it suited _him._ Whenever he closed his eyes, he found himself remembering Jorah Mormont. After saving the Tyberyan girl, the bear knight had been savaged upon by sellswords under the employ of a corrupt Volantian. His body had been half cooked when they found it.

_I burn too,_ he thought with a deranged giggle that quickly turned into a coughing fit. He had been reflecting on much as of late, ever since he had died and been sentenced to live out for the rest of eternity in this dark purgatory. _How long has it been since I lived?_ Surely it had been hundreds of years.

Every now and then a horrid pain would wrack through his stomach and he would retch up disgusting bile, as coarse and black as tar, intermingled with blood. He absently wondered how much of his blood had been lost coming out through one end or the other. Likewise, a shiver would settle in, so sudden and powerful that he dare not leave the warmth that his thin blankets provided.

Occasionally he would hear sounds, squeals and squeaks of a rat that had also made its home in his dark realm. When it first cried out he had the urge to crawl over and crush the little beast in his hands until it was naught but red mush in his hands but luckily he had restrained himself. That creature was the only companion he had in perdition and he had taken to talking at it during his bouts of pain.

In the back of his head he could recall the soft touch of a woman's hands cradling his head, fat wet tears falling down the back of his neck. _Mockeries,_ he decided. _The Gods want to remind me of my fall._

Despite the pain and his racing thoughts, he found himself questioning what it was exactly that had incurred this monumental punishment, but that was not hard to answer. He had killed many men in his twenty eight years, and committed a multitude of grievances, some more heinous actions than others. _The boy on Pyke,_ he remembered. _I cut him down without hesitation while his little sister watched on._ Asha Greyjoy's eyes had haunted him even here. There were other crimes too, the Tyroshi children he and Oberyn had taken hostage, the wars he had fought for coin, allowing his brothers to think him dead and the betrayal of his family.

_I told Brandon that Lyanna had gone off with Prince Rhaegar, even when she made me promise not to._ That was what grieved him the most; he broke a promise to Lya and allowed Brandon and their father to run off to get killed. _I'm the cause of it all, _he thought bitterly as he spat a wad of black from his mouth.

_It was my greatest sin, but not my first._ His first had been when he murdered his mother when coming into the world. Perhaps if he had died in the womb then his mother would have saved the Starks from their tragedies. The Starks were of the North and the North remembered, the old Gods remembered, and they did not forgive. _An eternity of pain in near darkness and I haven't suffered enough._

The ghost who had once been Willam Stark wondered if they had written any songs of his grand failures. He would have liked to be remembered as a bawdy tavern song that drunkards and rogues chanted over a roaring fire. Will laughed at that, something that was somewhere between a growl and choke. His throat was burnt to such a degree that such actions came out with stabs of pain, and the pain soon turned to anger.

_I should not have died,_ he reflected, _Oberyn promised me that we would defeat the Lannisters together. _He and Oberyn had fought many a battle in the distant lands of Essos, so far away from home, knee deep in blood and guts in a mad fight against men whom had never done Will any harm other than offend his employers.

That was long ago, though. They were surely all dead now, Oberyn, Alystar with his mocking smiles, big tall Taggo, Kovac De Reznek with his bizarre hair. Even the squires he was training before he left for Westeros were likely dead, dead or traitors.

And Nymeria. Nym, who Will had loved more than anyone else in his entire life. He had written to her often when the war first started, begging her to talk. He was only ever met with silence. _Why did she abandon me? I should have died at her side, surrounded by dozens of children in the Water Gardens, not left to choke on my own blood in some Tyrell tent._

"Please." He crawled from his cot and kneeled down before the flickering torch. "Let it end, let me fade into nothingness, that's all I ask. I don't want to stay like this." Tears trickled down his cheeks, as warm as the fire that burnt away inside him. "I….I don't want to remember how I failed them all, how I failed _myself."_ He struggled with another sob. "Don't leave me in the dark."

A voice said, "The Lord of Light would not leave one of his greatest weapons to suffer alone in darkness and death, Ser Wolf."

Will spun around, and through teary eyes spotted a woman from his past life, the red priestess he had seen with Stannis Baratheon on the day he died. "How did you come here?" he asked suddenly, realizing that his voice now had a raspy growl to it. "Did they kill you too?"

The exotic looking woman gave him an ominous smile then, and the ruby at her throat glowed queerly. "This is not one of your hells my sweet Wolf knight, and how could it be? A gift of the lord has been watching over you." She said, pointing to the torch. "As have I, ever since I found you at the brink of death."

The Stark looked at the woman curiously, with more than a touch of fear running down his spine. "Am…am I alive?" the thought had not occurred to him in some time.

Her red lips rose into a smile. "The spark of life still burns within you Ser Willam and despite the best efforts of those unbelievers it will not go out so easily. The Lord of Light has use of you."

A mad bark of laughter burst forth from Will's chest then, his sides hurting from the effort. "He has _use _of me?" he asked, wiping away a tear. "Do you not see where I am? The world has moved on without me while I lay here, a corpse rotting slowly. What possible use could your god have for me or me for him?"

Melisandre's strange red eyes studied him for a moment. "This is the deepest cell on Dragonstone, and the closest to the Dragonmont, perhaps you can feel the rivers of fire through the walls? When I found you poison had almost extinguished your soul, so I brought back to this great castle and used the pure flames to burn away the evil that was inside you," she gestured to the black vomit that pooled at the foot of his cot. "You have been fighting against the dark for the last few weeks, trying to purge yourself. We have kept our distance during your delirium…" the red woman gave him a sympathetic look. "The poison has not only corrupted your body, but it has blackened your mind as well. We dare not go to close, lest you hurt yourself or others."

Will struggled with all the woman had told him and the pounding in his head returned with a vengeance. After taking a moment he shakily rose to his feet, almost toppling over from the effort. He looked the red woman dead in the eye, his silver on her red. "Why did you save me?" he asked cautiously. "Does King Stannis mean to use me as a hostage?"

The red woman shook her head. "You wrong him Wolf Knight; King Stannis is a warrior of light, just like me…..and just like you. We are all in the same army."

"And what army is that?" Willam asked. "Has Stannis made cause with Robb against the Lannisters? Does he mean to end this war with peace between North and South?"

Melisandre sighed. "The war we fight is not one of petty lords fighting one another over some Iron chair, but the _real_ war. The war that has waged since the beginning of time, the war between Ice and Fire. On the side of good is R'hllor, the Lord of Light, the God of Life and Flame, the protector and savior. Against him stands the Great Other, the bringer of winter, he of Night and Terror. This goes beyond family Ser; this is a choice between life and death with the fate of the world at stake."

_Would she ask me to fight my kin? _Will felt his mouth tighten.

"The war always goes on, and if you want to save your family then you _must_ give yourself to R'hllor," she affirmed. "Your tree Gods have failed you, and caused you great pain," Melisandre pressed a delicate finger to his chest. "I know what is in your heart, my wolf knight; I know the demons that crawl around trying to tear free. R'hllor has heard your prayers and so have I, together we shall give you reason to live again."

A feral grimace came over the Stark then and he wrapped his own larger hands around the red priestess' own. "If you think I'll fight against House Stark then you are madder than they claim. You'd be better off finishing what the Tyrells started."

Melisandre moved closer. "Was it not your kin that betrayed their rightful king? How would _you_ deal with traitors Ser Willam? Your brother's son is damning the rest of House Stark by taking up arms against the only one who can save them from the coming darkness."

"You say these things yet what proof do you have?" he asked, shaking his head. "Where was your Red God when my family died? My father died at the hands of a fire obsessed madman; do you think that I would allow the flames to take another Stark? _No."_

"Death by fire is the purest death, Wolf knight." there was a hint of something in her voice, Will thought it was sympathy. "Your lord father is with R'hllor."

The Stark gave the woman a withering glance. "The power to burn someone is no true power, and the only power Stannis holds is that of the Stormlands and the Reach."

Melisandre laughed. "You are wrong. Stannis is the lord's chosen, Azor Ahai reborn. I have seen him in the flames, fighting a great battle against the dark. The flames do not lie, else you would not be alive. I saw the part you will have to play in the coming nights, just as I saw you in a pit, surrounded by Vipers and snakes. Your Dornish friends are scheming, and it is you who pays for it."

_How does she know of Oberyn and Nym?_ A knife scrapped down his spine as his fears began to boil._ No one outside my family knows of my plans with them. _He looked back at the Red Woman and wondered if he still had it in him to kill her before she spoke of it to anyone else.

"You require a demonstration," he felt Melisandre's slender white hands slide through his and she led him over to the single torch that hung in his dark home. "Look there," she instructed, pointing to the flames. "Look deeply and mayhaps R'hllor will grant you a vision."

He lifted his eyes to stare up at the torch, watching the flames shift and simmer. He looked for a long time and saw nothing and had a jape on his lips when suddenly the flames began to take shape and move in a certain way, gold and scarlet, flickering, forming and melting and dissolving into one another. Two lovers locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing at each other. A man falling from his horse as his son ran to him, a snake bite upon his face. "Pup," he heard a girl's voice cry. Suddenly the fires showed a man, laid down before a block and mutter "Kinslayer!" before shifting again and showing a great army marching on King's Landing, a spear adorned with golden skulls in the hand of one man.

"Do you see Wolf Knight?" the woman at his side asked, softly.

"Yes….."

"Then I think it is time you came into the light."


End file.
